Hellboy's Family
by epalladino
Summary: Chapter Six: Liz Sherman: Part Eighteen added. It's December of 1994 and Liz has stayed on at the BPRD. Yet, the approach of her 19th birthday triggers bad memories and nightmares. Please read and review.
1. Prologue

**Author's notes**: Just my own ramblings. Main characters not mine. This will probably end up being quite a jumble of stuff from the film with a smattering of characters and plot elements from the original comics. This will be very much connected to ideas from my earlier Hellboy stories, especially Father's Day Gifts and A Tale of 'Demon' Rights. Most of the characters original to my own stuff will derive from these earlier stories. However, there will probably be some other characters of my own, mainly functional to the plot (whatever of it there is) that will pop up during the composition of this story.

During the development of this story I hope, finally, to get the character of Abe Sapien into the mix. I love his character, both the comicverse and movieverse versions, but for some reason have avoided writing about him except in passing. I would like to rectify this omission. Also, even though I have wasted a little more ink on the character of Liz Sherman (mostly the movieverse version), I would like to spend a little more time developing her character further.

_Note: This will be a series of chapters about different people who became important in Hellboy's life and could be considered as part of his 'family.' Depending on my stamina, it should be ongoing for a while._

**Warning**: This is sure to be riddled with SPOILERS for the movie. Read it at your peril if you haven't seen the film.

**Hellboy's Family**

_**Prologue**_

'Hellboy'—a strange name for an even stranger character.

'Hellboy' isn't really even a name; it's more of a nickname that he got stuck with as an infant. However, it's the only name that he ever knew. Hellboy never even learned what his 'true' name was supposed to be until he was almost sixty years old. As far as he was concerned, this revelation was not a fortunate one and revealed more mysteries than it solved about his strange and mysterious origins.

Hellboy recalled nothing of any life that he may have had before his sudden appearance as an infant on an island off the coast of Scotland in late December of 1944. He certainly recalled nothing of any parents that could lay claim to him as their child or siblings that could point to him as their brother. But even though his appearance seemed to be that of an infant-sized red devil, there were certain things in his physical makeup pointing toward some sort of human origin.

Basically, regardless of his weird appearance, he was just a boy—a baby boy with a right hand almost as big as the rest of his entire body.

Like most children Hellboy had only the vaguest of recollections of anything before age two, when he found himself living on a secret military base in New Mexico. One of his earliest memories, outside of someone feeding him chocolate bars, was of being terribly frightened of something he saw in a mirror. He recalled squealing in terror and hiding his face in the neck of the person who was holding him up to the mirror.

This searing memory, one that later haunted his dreams, was Hellboy's first awareness that he looked very, very different from those who surrounded him.

Hellboy as a child was often plagued by dreams and nightmares. He was especially frightened of thunderstorms. He often believed that he could hear terrible voices in these storms even though he could not understand what the voices were saying.

In fact, the first storm that he had encountered, even though he had little memory of this, was the wild, chaotic storm that had heralded his arrival off the coast of Scotland on December 23, 1944. But whatever vague memories Hellboy had of this evening in 1944 were mostly related to someone holding him and feeding him candy bars.

For it was on this evening, his first evening on Earth, that the being who became known as Hellboy encountered the first of an interesting group of characters that he would eventually consider his 'true' family.

_Next: Chapter 1: Trevor Bruttenholm—The Adoptive Father: His Past_


	2. 1 The Adoptive Father: His Past

**Author's notes: **Even though much of this is my own, some of it is based on backstory information from Del Toro's film and was mostly worked up from memory.

**Chapter One: Trevor Bruttenholm, The Adoptive Father: His Past**

When Trevor 'Broom' Bruttenholm was young he was afraid of the dark and thunderstorms. He often suffered terribly from nightmares where he thought that he could hear dark, evil voices crying out words that he could not understand. His mother, a gentle, kind woman, would come to him when this would happen and comfort him.

Unfortunately, Trevor's mother was not always emotionally stable and the deaths of his two young sisters due to illness drove her into a nervous breakdown. As his mother became more and more unstable his father became emotionally distant, eventually deciding to separate from his increasingly eccentric wife. His father, a strict Protestant, especially objected to his wife's attempts to contact their lost daughters through séances and other paranormal means.

Trevor's main emotional relationship eventually became his paternal grandfather, the man who he had been named for. Captain Trevor Bruttenholm loved his grandson dearly, often finding this relationship a more emotionally satisfying one than his relationship with his own son, Trevor's father. When Trevor's parents established separate residences and his mother showed herself unable to deal with raising him alone, he went to live with his grandfather and they often traveled the world together.

Captain Bruttenholm, recognizing the essential soberness and stability of his grandson, did not interfere with the young Trevor's growing interest in the paranormal and Catholic spirituality and mysticism. In fact, he encouraged his grandson's interest in legends, folklore, and the supernatural; often they visited interesting people and places, both in their home country of England and abroad.

One thing that Trevor was reluctant to share with his grandfather was the continuing dark dreams and nightmares that plagued his sleep. However, as Trevor entered his early adolescence the nature of these dreams began to change. At around age twelve the nightmares began to be less frequent, but oddly started to cluster around particular times of the year, especially late October to early November. After a while the dreams faded completely; or so Trevor thought.

_Trevor Broom was still shaken by the devastating vision granted to him by Rasputin. _

_He pulled away from Rasputin's hand in disgust, not so much in disgust at the role planned for the unwitting Hellboy as in disgust at himself for being helpless to prevent this. Rasputin made it clear that one of the ways he was going to use to get at Hellboy was the murder of Trevor Broom himself._

_Broom no longer paid any attention to what Rasputin was pontificating on; his mind raced for ways he could use to warn Hellboy that appearances would not be all they seemed. He came to realize that Rasputin was asking him a question._

_"My Master has revealed to me his true name. Would you like to know it?"_

_Speaking very quietly to disguise from Rasputin his essential revulsion, fear, and sorrow Broom replied, "I know what to call him. I call him Son."_

_Hoping that Rasputin would not understand what he was doing, Trevor Broom removed from his wrist the rosary he always wore there, the rosary that had been a gift to him from Hellboy many decades before, and carefully left it on top of the encyclopedia entry on Rasputin he had just been consulting. He kept his hand on the rosary_**—**_almost as a kind of benediction for the demon he loved as a son and knew he would never see again in this life._

"_I'm ready," Trevor Broom said quietly, without fear. He never moved as he felt Rasputin's Nazi assassin, Kroenen, step up behind him. Any fear he did feel was solely for Hellboy, the demon he loved as his own son. _

_His last thought as he was stabbed from behind was, "God, protect my son; allow me to always be with him."_

The fifteen-year-old Trevor swam up from under a deep sleep realizing that someone was shaking his shoulder.

"Trevor," he heard his grandfather's voice, "are you all right, Son? This is the third time this week that you have cried out in your sleep. I really do not want to pry, but I am becoming concerned. Is there something that is bothering you?"

Trevor sat up totally disoriented. "Grandfather, I don't remember crying out; have I really been doing this? I don't even remember that I have been dreaming anything this past week. I used to have nightmares, but I thought they had stopped a few years ago."

Captain Bruttenholm sat down on the edge of his grandson's bed. "Son, I know that you used to have nightmares, but since you never wanted to discuss them I left it go. I always assumed that they were related to anxiety about your parents. I was reassured as they became less and less frequent. But these dreams you have been having this past week seem very different from these earlier nightmares."

Trevor shook his head; half in disbelief at what his grandfather was saying, half in trying to shake the sleep out of his head. "No wonder I have been feeling so tired lately; my sleep was being disturbed and I didn't even realize it. I am certainly sorry that I have been disturbing yours, Grandfather."

Trevor got up from the bed and stumbled into his bathroom. He switched on the electric light and peered short-sightedly at his reflection in the mirror over the sink; at first, for a few seconds, another, much older, face looked out at him and then settled down into a slightly blurry reflection of his own youthful face.

He groped for a pair of spectacles from a nearby shelf, pulled them on, and peered again at his reflection. He shook his head, took a long drink of water from the sink, and returned back to his grandfather.

"I am heartily sorry for interrupting your rest like this, Grandfather," he said as he walked back into his bedroom, "I know that you have not been feeling well lately. Let's go back to sleep and speak further on this at breakfast."

Trevor was annoyed that the nightmares he thought finally banished from his life had returned in this new, stranger form and were still clustering around late October to early November. He was especially annoyed that now he didn't even know he was having these dreams. In the past, even though he never recalled many details of the nightmares he was having, at least he was aware he was having them.

After speaking further with his grandfather on this matter the next morning, it was decided that he would visit with a Catholic acquaintance who was a professor of folklore and the paranormal at a famous university. Professor Mark Peters was also an expert on dreams and often used hypnosis to help people delve into dreams and nightmares.

It was decided that Trevor would visit with him on December 23, the other day of the year when he sometimes had strange dreams. Professor Peters hoped that if he put Trevor into a trance on that day he would be able to converse with him about what his subconscious was inflicting him with.

Trevor had never been hypnotized before and was both anxious and curious about what might be revealed. He went under rather quickly and when Professor Peters brought him out from the trance several hours later he remembered nothing of what had happened. He hadn't even noticed the passage of time.

As Trevor awoke from this trance he felt a lot of the same disorientation he had felt that earlier evening when his grandfather had awakened him from the dream he didn't know he was having. He sat up from the reclining position he had been in and pulled on the spectacles Professor Peters handed back to him.

"Mark, did you find out anything?" Trevor inquired after standing and stretching his arms and legs. He sat back down.

"Yes, Trevor," Professor Peters replied, "I found out plenty, but I'm not sure how much of it I should reveal to you. I can tell you this much**—**regardless of the nature of your very early nightmares these dreams you have been having more recently are really visitations of future events. These dreams, if we may still call them dreams, seem to be taking you out of the realm of ordinary, linear time and revealing something of your own future. They appear to be clustering around what will be dates of significant events in your future life. To tell you any more of what I have found out could disturb the delicate balance between fate and free will. And even though you consciously recall nothing, or next to nothing, after these dreams, your subconscious seems to be preparing you to someday make the choices and decisions you must make to fulfill your life's work."

Trevor stared at the older man who was speaking to him. "You know, Mark," he said after a while, "When I first started having these dreams around age twelve, I had a feeling that they were always about the same man, sometimes older, sometimes younger, but he seemed vaguely familiar to me. That was the only thing about these dreams that I could recall. What you are telling me is both more confusing and more intriguing."

"Trevor," Dr. Peters said, after a few moments of consideration of all that just passed, "I think that you should allow me to hypnotize you again. It may be worthwhile to plant a suggestion that what ever is going on right now is not threatening to you. This may stop what ever is going on deep in your subconscious from creeping into your conscious mind as nightmares."

He walked over to Trevor and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I am afraid that I will never live long enough to see the resolution of what was revealed to me when I hypnotized you earlier. I always realized that there was something really special about you and you must believe that I now feel extremely privileged to have met you."

Trevor just stood in an amazed silence wondering what his older friend could have seen revealed about his future that so moved him.

After this session with Dr. Peters, Trevor was never again disturbed by these nocturnal visitations; or at least not in a way that he was consciously aware. At age 17, on one of his travels with his grandfather, he attended an exorcism and the old woman who was the subject of this revealed to Trevor Bruttenholm that he would always transit a line between Heaven and Hell. This revelation caused him to recall the strange conversation he had had at age 15 with Dr. Peters and Trevor Bruttenholm wondered what exactly fate had in store for him.

_Next: Chapter Two: Trevor Bruttenholm, the Adoptive Father: Meeting his Fate _


	3. 2 The Adoptive Father: Meeting His Fate

**Author's notes:** This is a conglomeration of stuff from Del Toro's film (beware of SPOILERS) and the original Mignola comics. What's not theirs' is mine. I'm not planning on repeating this disclaimer on every chapter.

Chapter Two: Trevor Bruttenholm, The Adoptive Father: Meeting His Fate

Trevor Bruttenholm, for whom the concept of family was an important one, ended up bereft of family by his early twenties; first bereaved, early on, by parents emotionally incapable of caring for him, then by the death in 1936 of the loving grandfather who raised him. He only ever loved one woman, but her parents' objections to his social class and her subsequent death in 1938 crushed any hopes he may have had in that union.

An early interest in folklore, legends, and the paranormal coupled with an adolescent conversion to Catholicism led Trevor to a life long interest in the supernatural. He attended, in his home country of England, a famous university and was mentored in his early studies by Professor Mark Peters, a Catholic expert in folklore and the paranormal, who unfortunately passed away before Trevor graduated in 1937.

After the enforced separation from his fiancée, Trevor continued pursuing his studies on folklore abroad, often returning to many of the same locations he had traveled to in his adolescent years with his grandfather. He returned to England on learning of his fiancée's illness, but she died before he arrived. He vowed on her grave never again to be concerned with the fate of his own soul, but that of the entire world.

In 1944 Trevor permanently relocated to the United States where his surname was often spelled phonetically as 'Broom'. Official records are unclear exactly where he resided until placing him in the New York borough of Brooklyn in the early 1960s where he resided while a noted lecturer on folklore at New York University. According to these same official records he never became an American citizen, never married, never had any children, suffered two different bouts with cancer, and was murdered in the year 2004—departing this life as bereft of family as he had been in his early twenties.

However, there is a lot more to Trevor Bruttenholm's life than is shown in these official records. He was one of those unique individuals who seemed to be able to take the pain and troubles of his life and turn these difficulties into a kind of power. He also seemed uniquely capable of understanding evil and recognizing it in all its forms.

By 1943, at age twenty-seven, Trevor became known worldwide as the preeminent expert on Nazi occultism outside of Germany. It was at this time that he was contacted by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt to head up the organization that would become the seed for the clandestine FBI Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense.

It was on December 23, 1944, in the BPRD's first official field operation, that Trevor Bruttenholm, age twenty-eight, and a handful of American soldiers found themselves on an island off the coast of Scotland.

And it was on this island that Trevor Bruttenholm's fate jumped into his arms.

_Next: Chapter Three: Trevor Bruttenholm, The Adoptive Father: Raising Hell_


	4. 3 The Adoptive Father: Raising Hell

**Chapter Three: Trevor Bruttenholm, The Adoptive Father: Raising Hell**

_**Somewhere off the coast of Scotland, late December 1944**_

The twenty-eight year old Trevor Broom awoke from a deep sleep. He came to realize that he was lying in a bed on some sort of ship. The lights in the cabin were on. His first sensation upon awakening was one of great pain in the thigh of his right leg.

He was unnaturally groggy, which made him aware that some narcotic must have assisted his sleep. He was under the impression that some loud sound had disturbed his sleep and listened for some further manifestation of this.

He tried to jog his memory as to where he was and why his leg was all bandaged up. His last memory was of being on a submarine. He had been preparing to leave with a group of American soldiers on a mission to a small island just off the coast of Scotland. Certain British experts of the paranormal, including Broom himself who now worked for the American government, suspected that Nazi occultists had established a secret base in the ruins of an abandoned monastery that was located on this island.

However, at this point in time, Broom was still too much under the influence of what ever narcotic he must have been administered to bring his memory up to his arrival, wounded, on the ship where he was now located. He could hear, from another part of the ship, a sort of ruckus. He realized that this may be a continuation of the sound that had wakened him in the first place, but he couldn't quite make out what the sound was.

Suddenly, his cabin door opened and a man he recognized as Sergeant George Whitman entered; carrying what looked like a child bundled up in a blanket. This bundle was struggling and squealing.

"Glad to see you're awake again, Professor. I'm sorry to disturb you, but we can't do a darn thing with Hellboy. One of the men thought it'd be funny to let him look at himself in a mirror and you'd think that he'd seen his worst nightmare or something like that."

Broom stared at Sergeant Whitman and the horned infant red devil that was struggling in his arms. Memory came crashing back in on him.

_'Hellboy,' _he groaned to himself,_ 'Why did I ever call him that? It is a name that he will most likely get stuck with.' _

Broom struggled to sit up. "Sergeant, give Hellboy to me. I do not appreciate the men playing with him as if he were some sort of pet. Mirror recognition comes late to most infants and who knows what the poor child thought he was seeing."

As Whitman approached the bed, Hellboy quieted down. Reaching out with his two arms, he leaned toward Broom as a child would to a parent. To Broom's eyes, Hellboy's huge stone-like right hand and forearm seemed almost too large for an infant his size to lift.

Noticing that someone had torn up a sheet to make the infant demon diapers, Broom attempted to take Hellboy into his arms without jarring his bandaged leg.

"Sergeant, would you do me a favor? Somewhere in those bags of mine in the corner over there I think I have some more of those Baby Ruth bars I fed him on the island. See if you can find me one. He seems to love chocolate and feeding him that may calm him down. Tell me, have you managed to get him to eat anything else? The child has to eat something more than a steady diet of chocolate."

Whitman brought over the candy bar. "We finally got him to eat hot noodles. That's the only thing, outside of chocolate, that he's been willing to even taste."

At that point, the ship, which had already begun rolling in the water a little more than it had been, took a lurch that threw Whitman off balance.

"Crap!" he exclaimed, "There must be another goddamned storm coming. I wish we were back home. I'm blasted tired of this Scottish December weather."

Hellboy, who at the time was busily downing the candy he had just been given by Broom, jumped up and down in Broom's arms; causing exquisite pain to his injured leg.

"Crap! Crap!" the little red infant gleefully repeated.

Broom glared up at Whitman, "Obviously, the child is prone to imitation. Please, watch your language around him."

Whitman couldn't help laughing. "All right, all right, Professor. I'll keep that in mind."

He turned toward the door of the cabin, "I better get out of here and check with the crew about the state of the weather. Are you sure that you're up to keeping him here with you? If so, I think I'd better send one of my men with more of those diapers. I think he might need to be changed by now."

Setting Hellboy down on the bed, Broom struggled to stand up. "My leg still hurts like the dickens, but other than that I'm starting to feel a lot better; especially now that the effects of the medication I was given are wearing off. I do believe I actually prefer the pain to taking those narcotics."

Nodding at him, Whitman turned and walked out of the cabin. The ship gave another lurch and Broom sat back down on the edge of the bed. Hellboy tried to climb into his lap; but Broom grabbed him, sitting him on the bed next to him. His right leg wasn't up to having anything sit on it just yet. Taking a little sniff, he sighed; Whitman was right, Hellboy needed to be changed.

Trevor Broom loved children. Yet, the course of his life and work meant he was seldom around them. He hardly knew the first thing about diapers.

Just then, a private walked in that Broom only barely recalled having seen on the island where they had destroyed the Nazi's occult machine and found the infant demon they were all now calling Hellboy. He looked at the name on his uniform: Weber.

Private Weber was carrying a pile of diapers that had obviously been made from the same sheet as the one Hellboy was wearing. He handed them and some safety pins to Broom.

"Professor, why don't you let me change him. We really should've checked him before we sent him in to you." He reached out toward Hellboy, who startled Broom by shrieking and scrambling on the bed to hide behind Broom's back.

Private Weber backed up, "Sorry, Professor, I guess he's still frightened of me. I asked Sergeant Whitman to send me in with the diapers because I wanted to apologize to you for scaring him earlier. I didn't really mean anything by it. I just thought it would be cute to let him look in a mirror, like I did with my little niece back home. It never crossed my mind that it would scare him like that."

Broom smiled, "I accept your apology, Private. I appreciate that all the men want to play with him, but we should be careful. Despite his demonic appearance, I am convinced that Hellboy himself is not some evil creature. Yet, we have little knowledge of the place of his origin before his arrival on the island or the experiences he may have had with other beings in that place. These experiences may not have been pleasant ones and when he looked in the mirror, seeing something that he would not necessarily recognize as his own face, it may have reminded him of something frightening."

Ignoring the pain in his leg, Broom got up and took Hellboy into his arms. "Private, is there someone else who could demonstrate what to do with these diapers? I may have several university degrees, but feel somewhat inadequate to the task of acting as a father."

"I'll send in the ship's surgeon. Since you're awake now, he'd probably want to see you anyway," Private Weber said as he walked out, "He can show you what to do with the diapers."

The surgeon came in several minutes later, checked out Trevor Broom, and informed him that his leg was healing nicely. Before he left, he showed Broom how to diaper Hellboy.

After the surgeon left, as it was getting late, Broom arranged Hellboy in the bed trying to figure out a way to avoid sleeping too close to Hellboy's right hand. Turning out the lights, he climbed into the bed next to Hellboy and they both fell asleep rather quickly.

Later, Broom woke in the middle of the night. Hellboy had thrown off the blanket Broom had covered him with, rolling over onto his stomach. He was now almost sleeping on top of Broom with his head on his shoulder and his huge right hand across Broom's chest. This was all somewhat uncomfortable, but Broom hated to wake the child up and the heat of his body felt nice even though there was increased pain in his wounded leg.

Reaching up with his left arm, Broom readjusted the heaviness of Hellboy's right hand on his chest, being careful not to wake him. He was surprised at the coldness of this stone-like hand. In spite of the pain caused by the weight of Hellboy's body against his leg, Broom fell back asleep; his left hand lying gently on the child's back.

Hours later, Trevor Broom was awakened by a crash of thunder. Sergeant Whitman had been correct about the coming storm.

Now noticing a small porthole in the cabin, Broom saw in the flash of lightning admitted through it that Hellboy was nowhere to be seen; but he could hear grunting and squealing coming from under the bed when the next peal of thunder rang out.

Without a thought for the strain that this would occasion for his bandaged leg, Broom knelt down on the floor and tried to coax the demon child out from under the bed. The totally frightened Hellboy was having none of this. He slid even further under the bed, when there was another bolt of lightning followed by an even louder peal of thunder.

By this time, the ship was tossing about quite violently. The legs of the bed were bolted to the floor, but some of the loose items in the cabin started to slide around. Since Hellboy was obviously not going to come out from under the bed, Broom lay down on his back on the floor and slid under the bed with him. Gathering the struggling Hellboy into his arms, he tried to comfort him.

After a time, Sergeant Whitman entered the cabin to see if Broom was too disturbed by the storm, somewhat surprised to see no one there. When he called out, Broom answered from under the bed.

"Jeez, Professor, you startled me. I never expected to find you hiding under there," Whitman said as he looked under the bed at him.

"I'm all right, Sergeant," Broom replied, "I'm just waiting for this storm to calm down. Hellboy was frightened and he wouldn't come out from under the bed. I hated to leave him all alone down here. There is nothing I really need; so, please, don't worry about me."

Whitman shrugged. "They tell me this storm isn't supposed to last long. I've also been informed that the Brits have gotten wind that we found something of interest on that island. I hear there's been a telegram from Churchill stating that since the 'alien child', as he calls Hellboy, was found on British soil by a British citizen he should be turned over to the British government to deal with. I'm not doing anything until we hear from the FBI or the president. After all, British citizen or not, you've been working for us and I doubt the president would relinquish our rights to this 'alien child'."

By the time Whitman was finished speaking, the storm had died down a lot and Broom decided to slide out from under the bed; bringing the now calmer Hellboy with him. Whitman helped him up from the floor and Broom lifted Hellboy back up onto the bed, where the exhausted 'alien child' immediately fell back asleep.

Sitting on the edge of the bed next to Hellboy, Trevor Broom covered him with a blanket and then looked up at Sergeant Whitman.

"Sergeant, I would like to make it perfectly clear that I am not about to give Hellboy up to any government officials, either British or American. The child needs to have someone with him who is concerned with his interests; not merely be treated as property for governments to fight over."

Trevor Broom, looking down on the now quietly sleeping Hellboy, took the child's normal-sized left hand into his own and, stooping, kissed his forehead.

"No, Sergeant," Broom said softly, "The child is going to stay with me. I will allow him to go nowhere without me as his guardian. I am uniquely qualified, in many different ways, to be the one who takes custody of him. I will only let him move to the country that will allow me to do so. I suspect that it will end up being America."

Sergeant Whitman only met the young expert in the paranormal around a week before and, at first, had not been at all impressed with him. However, ever since the operation on the island when they defeated the Nazis and first encountered Hellboy, he more and more discovered an unexpected power in Trevor Broom; a man who at first had appeared to be nothing more than an eccentric academic.

"What about your own family and your career in England, Professor?" Sergeant Whitman was still somewhat startled by this unexpected vehemence in Broom.

Broom shook his head, "None of that matters, Sergeant. As for family, I have no family; or, at least, no family that cares what becomes of me. I am totally alone in this world. As for my career, I believe I have a position waiting for me in America that will be an even greater one than any I have ever held. This position will also give me a much better opportunity to nurture and raise Hellboy than I would have in England. Yet, even if it doesn't work out, I am more than prepared to give up everything I have to ensure that Hellboy stays with me."

Broom whispered, almost to himself, "What would everything I have matter to me, if I must give him up to those who will surely treat him as a dangerous creature?"

Look up again, he continued, "You see, Sergeant, for some strange reason I know that if he is taken from me the very continuing existence of humanity will be jeopardized. Yet, it is not for the sake of humanity that I wish to have him with me. I will love him and be as a father to him. He will love me more than any son; and yet will never speak of this love. I will live only for him and, eventually, I will die for him. I know this; I have seen it."

Sergeant Whitman stared at the young scientist still seated on the bed clasping Hellboy's hand. Eventually, he realized that Trevor Broom was in some sort of trance.

He reached down and shook Broom's shoulder. "Professor, are you all right?"

"I know what to call him. I call him Son." As Broom spoke these words, his eyes suddenly became focused again. "I apologize for drifting off like that, Sergeant. I must have dozed off and almost feel like I have been dreaming something. I really need to get back to sleep. I do hope that I have made myself clear about wishing to keep Hellboy."

Whitman smiled slightly, "Yes, Professor; you made yourself very clear."

The next day, Trevor Broom received a telegram from President Roosevelt. A week later, after his leg was sufficiently healed, a military cargo plane transported Broom and Hellboy to Washington, D.C., where the president appointed him as the head of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. President Roosevelt also allowed Trevor Broom to keep Hellboy with him, eventually permitting him to officially adopt Hellboy in 1951.

_Next chapter: Chapter Four: Katie Corrigan, The Little Sister_


	5. 4 Katie Corrigan: The Little Sister

**Author's notes**: The Wolves of Saint August is one of my very favorites of the original Mignola Hellboy comics. Father Edward Kelly, the priest who is killed by the werewolf in this comic and is obviously a close friend to Hellboy, had made an appearance in Part Three of my story A Tale of 'Demon' Rights as the young, newly-ordained priest who baptized Hellboy when he was five years old. A younger version of the character of Kate Corrigan from this comic was also to have made an appearance in this same story, but the structure of Part Three became too complicated and Kate's chapter was dropped. In fact it was never written, just thought about.

However, the idea of Kate first meeting Hellboy in 1959 was always a part of the subtext of A Tale of 'Demon' Rights and I am using this opportunity to work out the details of this meeting. Even though Kate Corrigan will be a very important character in this chapter, the relationship between fTrevor Broom will be prominent because of the connection to this earlier story. The basic idea of this will be the same as originally planned, but the structure of this will be quite different; since it will be more of an independent story it will be much longer than the originally planned chapter.

Mignola never gives you much of an idea of how old Kate is in the original comics. In order for my little idea to work you must picture Kate as being in her early forties in The Wolves of Saint August. Many apologies if this age is too old for her character. Frankly, I always find it interesting to insert my favorite comicverse characters or ideas into a movieverse story. **(Warning**: Beware of some SPOILERS in this if you haven't seen the movie.)

_This story has been a long time in the writing and the first chapters are among my earliest written narratives. As such, they are in need of a lot of grammatical tweaking. As of September 2008 this chapter is sfdifferent in construction, if essentially the same in details, from what was first written._

**Hellboy's Family: Chapter Four**

**Katie Corrigan, The Little Sister: Learning to Pray**

**_Pittsburgh International Airport, Early November 2004_**

When Kate Corrigan received the news of Professor Trevor Broom's murder, she had been in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania researching reports of some abandoned coalmines that appeared to be infested with goblins. She had fully intended to attend his funeral. However, the same storm that was inundating Newark, New Jersey with rain that day was hitting Pittsburgh even harder.

Flight after flight was delayed for an unspecified period of time. In the end, many of these flights were cancelled. By the time a flight to Newark was finally announced, Kate had been stranded so long at the airport that she would certainly miss the funeral.

This was devastating to her. Trevor Broom had not only been a wonderful mentor in her early studies in folklore, not only the adoptive father of her closest friend. He had also been someone who had known her father, Richard Corrigan, before he died during surgery for a heart condition in 1959 when she had been only eight years old.

Her father had been a consultant in folklore for the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense in the 1950s; in much the same way that Kate had been since 1984. Kate had also been an on-again, off-again team member with the BPRD, working mainly with Hellboy, the demon that Broom had raised as his own son.

Despite missing the funeral, Kate decided to take the flight to Newark anyway. She hadn't seen Hellboy in a while, having been away doing her own research for some time. Yet, her research in Pittsburgh could wait. She wanted to see Hellboy again, to grieve with him; to comfort him in the loss of his father, as he had once comforted her after the death of her own father.

No one knew better than she did how close Hellboy had been to his adoptive father, just how much he had loved him; even though she never recalled him putting this into words. For some reason Kate and Hellboy never needed words between them to know just what the other was thinking and feeling. Their friendship was very special.

Just before her flight was to board, Kate had gone to the restroom and did not like at all what she saw in the mirror. When she first arrived at the airport that morning, dressed in a black suit she had picked up in Pittsburgh the day before, she had looked quite nice. Unfortunately, the frustrating hours of waiting for the weather to clear sufficiently for take-off had taken its toll on her appearance.

Crying had almost completely ruined her makeup and her tendency to run her hands through her hair when upset had made her dark blonde hair stand up on end. Hours of sitting around had rumpled up the suit and a quick snack at a McDonald's that was located near her departure gate had left a smear of catsup on her blazer.

While in the restroom, she had managed to remove the stain from the blazer. Any endeavor, however, to reapply the makeup and run a brush through her hair seemed, at least in her own eyes, to make her look even worse. She wanted to cry in frustration, but felt she had no tears left.

When she returned to the departure gate, the chaos there had become even worse. The US Airways flight that she was supposed to be boarding was now over-booked because of cancelled flights and the airline was encouraging people to voluntarily wait for another flight. Kate, who had been at the airport since very early that morning, did not want to spend one more minute there than she had to. She was not about to give up her seat.

A young woman grabbed Kate's arm, begging her to give up her seat. She was crying about missing an important business meeting. As she yanked her arm away, something snapped inside of Kate.

"A business meeting?" she shouted, "A business meeting! I've only recently heard of the murder of a man who was almost like a father to me. I'm missing his funeral and you're standing here talking about a business meeting!"

More than embarrassed about exploding in public like that, Kate immediately apologized to the young woman she had just shouted at. The woman gave her a weak smile and said, "No, I really should be the one to apologize. I had no right grabbing you like that. I'm really sorry to hear about your friend. It must be terrible to have someone you know be murdered." She unexpectedly leaned forward and hugged Kate, who was surprised, but pleased with the gesture.

"You know, I really should give up my seat," Kate said, as she returned the embrace. "I still want to get to Newark, but have no reason to be there by a particular time since I'll never make the funeral."

Smiling at the young woman, Kate walked over to the desk by the gate to relinquish her boarding pass in exchange for another for the next flight. She also received a complimentary pass for round trip tickets that could be used for a future trip on US Airways. Kate was the last person to do this and was informed that the next flight to Newark was scheduled to take off around noon from that same gate.

She returned to the crowded waiting area just as they announced the imminent boarding of the flight. A lot of people got up from their seats, surging forward toward the gate. Kate threw herself into the first seat that became available. After having relinquished her own seat hours earlier to a young woman with a child, she was grateful to finally be able to sit down again.

Checking her watch, she noticed that she had a little over an hour before the next flight was to board. She wasn't too hopeful; assuming that a flight that was to take off at noon would probably depart at least an hour later. Now that she knew for sure that she would miss the funeral, Kate actually felt a lot calmer and started to think back on her past relationship with Trevor Broom.

She had been eight years old when she first met him, but he had been so ill at the time that it had hardly registered with him. She met him again at age nineteen when she entered New York University to study fthe beginning of a significant relationship that ultimately led to her employment as a consultant with Broom's Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense.

Yet, it had not been Trevor Broom himself who had finally convinced Kate to do more with folklore than write and teach her own classes at NYU. It had been his adopted son, Hellboy; the same one who had taught eight-year-old Katie Corrigan to pray, back when they both had very ill fathers.

_How many people do you meet who were taught to pray by a demon?_ Even in the midst of her grief, this particular memory made Kate smile. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to relax and drift off.

* * *

**_Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense  
Boston, Massachusetts, August to December 1959_**

Trevor Broom had raised Hellboy as Catholic. Baptized at age five, first communion and confirmation by age ten, this 'son' of his was almost fifteen years old and personally found anything of a religious nature about as interesting as eating spinach.

Hellboy was now close to seven feet tall, with bright red skin, tail, shaved off horns, and a right hand big enough to belong to someone twice his stature. Even though he did not look like your average Catholic adolescent, Trevor Broom had continued in his efforts to raise Hellboy in his own faith.

A small chapel had been installed in the main BPRD headquarters, right inside of the Medical Wing. Hellboy, who cared very deeply for his father, would sometimes indulge him by attending Mass, especially around Christmas, which was right after Hellboy's birthday.

Father Mike Elliott was the priest who came to the BPRD headquarters in Boston to celebrate Masses on Sundays and holidays. He was one of the few local priests to know of the existence of this Bureau and its fourteen-year-old monster hunter and paranormal investigator.

One particular Sunday morning in August of 1959, Father Mike was surprised to see Hellboy slip into the chapel right after the Mass had started. However, Trevor Broom had been located in the Medical Wing since the beginning of June for treatment for cancer and the priest was already beginning to suspect how worried Hellboy was about the state of his father's health.

Dressed in his usual black tee shirt and leather pants, Hellboy sat cross-legged on the floor at the back of the chapel. The small chairs in the chapel were not designed for someone his size and weight. Closing his eyes after he sat down, he used the enormous index finger of his stone-like right hand to gently fidget with the rosary that he had wrapped around his more normal-sized left wrist.

Hellboy had given Trevor Broom this beautiful olivewood and ivory rosary as a Father's Day gift three years before and was taking care of it while he was in the hospital. He often wore the rosary around his left wrist just like Trevor Broom usually did around his own right wrist.

After receiving communion when everyone else was done, Hellboy surprised the priest by touching his shoulder and stooping down to whisper in the ear of the much shorter man. "I want to talk to you after this is over, Father Mike. I'll just wait until you're finished."

Returning to the rear of the chapel, Hellboy stood off to the side as the Mass came to its completion. He nodded at the few people who greeted him as they went out. Some still ignored him. Even though these people all worked for the Bureau and were supposedly conversant with unique creatures, Hellboy knew his mere existence still made many of them nervous.

One of the people who greeted him was Frank Dixon, the commander Hellboy had served under in the mid-Fifties fighting against the Nazis in Argentina. "Hey, Hellboy, I've not seen you since you came back from Ireland. How'd that trip go?"

Hellboy reached out with his left hand and shook hands with the older agent, "Not such a bad trip. Pretty easy, really. It was one of those fairy changeling things. I just had to do a favor for these weird little men to get the baby girl back from them. Even kind of enjoyed myself once it was all over. Ireland's a pretty place. I just didn't like being away for so long with Pop being sick."

"How is Professor Broom doing, H.B.?" inquired Dixon, "I've not been around in a while. I hope his condition is improving."

"I'm not really sure, Dix," Hellboy fidgeted again with the rosary wrapped around his wrist. "They tell me everything is working out okay with this experimental chemotherapy crap they've been giving him, but if he's getting better you wouldn't know it by me. He looks just awful, he's lost a lot of his hair, and he can hardly keep any food down."

Dixon knew that, regardless of his size and field experience, Hellboy was still only fourteen years old. He didn't like seeing him this upset. "Look, Big Red, I hear he's got some of the best doctors in the country looking after him. You shouldn't be so worried. I'm sure they know what they're doing."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me," Hellboy sighed, "but I can't help being worried. If he's really getting better, I just wish he would look like he's getting better." He turned to face Father Mike who had just walked up to him.

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, Hellboy," said the priest, "A lot of what your father is going through is mainly the unfortunate side effects of the chemotherapy. I'm afraid that it may be a long, hard road until he is healed; but if the treatment ends up being effective these troublesome side effects will have been worth it."

Nodding, Hellboy continued to fidget with the rosary and then turned to Dixon. "Sorry, Dix, I'd like to talk to Father Mike alone, if you don't mind. I'll tell Pop that you asked for him when I visit later. Who knows, maybe I'll have some good news the next time I see you."

"Well, Hellboy," said the priest after Frank Dixon left, "What was it that you wanted to see me about? I'm assuming that it has something to do with your father."

"Yeah, it has something to do with my father, kind of," said Hellboy, as he looked down at the rosary that he had still been fidgeting with.

He looked back up again. "You see, I've been wanting to pray with this rosary, but I don't remember how the prayers go. I used to have this kid's book Pop gave me years back. It had some title like Flowers of the Rosary or Garlands of the Rosary, but I must've lost it. He's got some prayer books in his office, but they're a bit confusing. Do you have anything I could borrow?"

"I think I have something in my satchel you could use," said the priest. He went up to the altar in the front of the chapel, returning a few moments later with a booklet. It had the title Rosary Novenas to Our Lady printed in red on a gray cover.

After he had been handed the booklet, Hellboy thumbed through it. "This is a bit different from what I used to have. It has a lot more prayers. I was hoping for something a little shorter."

The priest smiled, "This booklet really has two different ways to pray the rosary. If you go to the back you'll find an explanation of the rosary that will be more like the child's book you used to have."

Hellboy shoved the booklet into his pants pocket. "Thanks, Father Mike. I'll see how it works out." He turned, left the chapel, and walked slowly down the main corridor of the Medical Wing to the private room where his father was located.

Trevor Broom was asleep, so Hellboy did something that had become a regular activity for the past several months. Sitting in a large chair that he had been given to accommodate his size and weight, he watched his father sleep.

After a while, he looked more closely at the rosary booklet. It had many illustrations along with the different sections, some of which were typical 'Virgin and Child' illustrations. He never had a mother, at least not one that he recalled. Trevor Broom had always been somewhat vague about his origins. Ever since his infancy, his life with the man who adopted him was the only life he had ever known.

Yet, Hellboy understood enough to know that Trevor Broom had always been as good as both father and mother to him. It would be worth suffering through any number of silly-sounding prayers if his father would just get better.

Getting up from his chair, he walked over to the bed. Trevor Broom seemed to his eyes to be hooked to a million tubes and wires. He was also sweating profusely in his sleep; probably some new side effect of the chemotherapy.

Hellboy reached down with his normal-sized left hand and gently brushed his father's damp hair back from his forehead. At least it did seem like he was starting to lose less of it. It was nice to be able to notice any kind of improvement.

Martha Wilson, the head nurse, walked in at that point. "Hello, H.B., I thought I'd find you here. Actually, he's doing a lot better. He was able to eat a little food earlier. And some little bird, in the form of one of the nurses, told him that she saw you at Mass. I think that made him happy."

Hellboy thought for a moment. "Right, I thought one of the women who waved at me looked familiar. So, you really think he's getting better, Marty?"

"Yes," the nurse smiled, "There has been a distinct improvement in the side effects since yesterday, and the tumor has been shrinking at an accelerated rate. Doctor Patterson and the other experts have been very pleased. It's still going to be a long time, but it does look like he's turned a kind of corner in the treatment."

As she was speaking, Trevor Broom woke up. "Son, how long have you been here? I wish you would wake me when you come to visit. I hate it when I find out that you've been here and left without me even knowing about it."

Hellboy smiled and took his father's hand, "But Pop, you know that Marty here would shoot me with a gun even bigger than my Samaritan if I woke you up."

He knelt down to see Trevor Broom more closely. "Marty says you're feeling a little better. I'm glad to hear that. I saw Frank Dixon earlier today and he asked after you. Is there anything you would like that I can bring you?"

"What I would really like is a decent cup of tea," complained Broom, "I haven't been able to keep even that much down for days. And when I could finally drink some tea, what the Medical Wing kitchen sent me today was barely passable."

Hellboy looked up, "Can I bring him some of the tea and scones I brought back from Ireland, Marty? He might enjoy that."

"I don't see why not," said Martha, "As long as you don't put more than a little butter on the scone and don't make the tea too strong or put any milk in it."

"I'll have the kitchen in the main facility make up a tray and bring it back." Hellboy gave his father's hand a little squeeze, got up, and walked out.

About twenty minutes later, when Hellboy was returning with the tray, he almost tripped over a young girl in the main corridor of the Medical Wing. "Hey, sorry, kid. I wasn't looking where I was going."

He looked down at the girl who was dressed in a blue skirt and white blouse. She had dark blonde hair tied with blue ribbons into pigtails. "I've not seen you before. You new around here?"

The girl stared up at him, almost speechless. "You must be Hellboy," she finally managed to gasp. "My father told me something about you." She stopped staring and looked at the floor instead. "Sorry, I guess I'm being rude. I'm Katie Corrigan. My father's Richard Corrigan, who sometimes works for you guys. But right now, he's in the hospital here. Some problem with his heart."

Hellboy nodded. "Nice to meet you, Katie. Guess we have something in common. My father's in the hospital here, too. He's feeling a little better, so I was just bringing him some tea. I hope your father gets to feeling better. Well, I better go before this tea gets cold. Maybe I'll see you around."

Balancing the tray to keep the tea from spilling, he continued walking toward his father's room.

When he arrived, Hellboy managed to hold the tray with his huge stone hand while he turned the door handle with his left. Pushing the door open with his foot, he walked in. Before she left the room, Martha Wilson had wheeled the room table closer to the bed and had assisted Trevor Broom to sit up.

Martha was right; his father did look just a little better. Even with this new phenomenon of sweating, he seemed to have a lot more color and looked less tired than he had recently.

"Son, that tea smells wonderful. You were away in Ireland so briefly that I can't believe you had the time to pick me up anything."

"Actually, this all was a gift from the woman whose girl I got back from those weird little men," Hellboy said, as he poured some tea into the mug he was gently holding in his stone-like right hand.

"She put this all together when I told her how much you liked Irish tea and scones. She also gave me some soda bread. I wanted to bring you some of it when I arrived here on Friday, but you just weren't up to it. Maybe you could have some of the soda bread tomorrow for breakfast."

Hellboy blew on the tea and handed it to his father when he thought it was sufficiently cool to drink. "I hope it's not too strong. I know that you like milk in your tea, but Marty said milk wouldn't be too good for your stomach." He unwrapped a single toasted scone that was still warm and carefully put just a little butter on it.

As Trevor Broom was taking his first sip of tea, Hellboy asked him about the girl he almost tripped over in the hallway. "I didn't know Richard Corrigan was so ill. He wasn't in the Medical Wing when I left for Ireland. He must be pretty bad if the Bureau brought his family here to be with him."

"Things are bad, Son, very bad," said Broom, "That's one of the reasons I had him admitted here. They want to try a brand-new experimental heart procedure. It may be his only chance."

"I hope everything works out, Pop," Hellboy said, as finished buttering the scone, "His little girl, Katie, seemed really nice."

"I have yet to meet Richard's family. I wish I were strong enough to do so," Broom said as he took another sip of his tea, "Son, this tea is very good. Thank you for bringing it."

"Sure, Pop. Anytime you want anything, just let me know. If we don't have it, I'll make sure to get it. You want to try some of this scone? Or would that be too much for you? I've already eaten a couple of them. They're pretty good for scones."

"I would like to try it," Trevor Broom said, as Hellboy broke off a section of the scone he had just buttered and handed it to him, "I love homemade scones."

Broom slowly nibbled at the scone. "This really is very good. However, I knew it had to be good, because you liked it. You usually don't like scones that much. I think I could eat the rest of this one, but I won't have another. I don't want to overdo it. I will have to write to this woman and tell her just how much I'm enjoying what she gave you."

As he ate the rest of the scone and drank what was left of his tea, Trevor Broom looked more closely at Hellboy, "I'm glad the trip to Ireland was a good one for you, Son. I know that you've been doing way too much worrying about me recently. It was a pleasant surprise, though, to find out that you've been attending Mass. You will find that prayer does help." He yawned as he handed the now empty mug to Hellboy. "I think I could go back to sleep now."

Hellboy didn't say anything, as he started to collect up the remains onto the tray. "Would you like any more tea before I take this away?" he asked when he was finished.

"No, I don't think so," Broom yawned again, "But you could send me some tomorrow for breakfast along with that soda bread you mentioned. And I would like tea and scones in the afternoon as well, if it's not too much trouble."

"Of course, it's not too much trouble." Hellboy sat on the floor next to the bed, taking Broom's hand, "I need to get up early tomorrow, anyway, to finish writing my report on what happened in Ireland. I'm too tired to do it tonight. I think I'll come and eat breakfast with you tomorrow, if that's okay."

He looked up into Trevor Broom's face, which looked so much better than it had when he came home on Friday, and then down at the hand he was holding. "I just can't help worrying about you," he said after a long moment of silence. "You looked so bad when I got back from Ireland I was sure Dr. Patterson was going to tell me you had taken a turn for the worse."

Another moment of silence followed; then Hellboy suddenly blurted out, "Father, I've been so scared recently and I've been having such terrible nightmares. I'm not ready to let you go."

Trevor Broom bent down and grabbed Hellboy into a surprisingly strong embrace. "Let me warn you of something, Son; something that I discovered when my grandfather died in my young adulthood. You will never be ready to let me go. Even if I live another fifty years, when the time comes it will still be too soon." Hellboy rose up onto his knees and tightly returned the embrace with only his left arm, just as he had been taught as a young child.

Broom whispered into his ear, "Remember what I promised you on your fifth birthday. I will always love you. Even if you lose me, you will never lose my love." Closing his eyes as he hugged his father, Hellboy thought of so many things. Things he was never able to say.

After a few moments, Trevor Broom let him go, "Son, I'm thirsty and would like some fresh water. Have one of the nurses bring it when you leave. Don't bother getting it yourself. I want you to go find something to eat and get some sleep. You look exhausted."

Hellboy rose from the floor, "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Father."

Gathering up the tray, he turned and walked out. As Hellboy went to the nurses' station to tell them his father would like some water, Martha Wilson walked up.

"How did your father like his tea? Was he able to eat a scone?"

"He enjoyed everything, including the scone," Hellboy said, looking a lot happier than he had earlier. "I'm going to bring him some more tea for breakfast tomorrow along with some of the soda bread I brought back from Ireland." He sat the tray he was holding down on a desk.

"Pop said he was going to send that lady in Ireland a letter. I think I should write, too. She's a nice lady and I really appreciated her sending all this stuff for Father. I'm glad I was able to rescue her little girl. By the way, Marty, can you tell me how Richard Corrigan is doing? Pop tells me his condition is pretty bad. I practically knocked his girl, Katie, over in the corridor today. She seems like a good kid and I would hate to see her get hurt."

Martha shook her head. "I'm afraid it doesn't look at all good, H.B. He was to have entered into surgery today for his heart problem, but then his condition became too unstable. The surgery has been put off until later in the week, if he even lasts that long."

Hellboy sighed, "This all must be hard on Katie."

"Of course it is and she's only eight years old." Martha put a hand on his shoulder. "It's hasn't been hard to notice that you've been worried to the point of panic about your father ever since you came back from Ireland on Friday. I hope you realize that you have less reason to be worried than Katie. You're always looking so glum when I see you."

Hellboy smiled slightly, "Sure, Marty, I am a lot less worried than I was before. But I'll never be happy until he gets up out of that bed and walks out of the Medical Wing for good. That's when I'll stop worrying about him."

He gave Martha a quick hug, "Thanks for taking care of him so good."

Picking up the tray again, he walked out of the Medical Wing and made his way to his own quarters. He hoped eating and sleeping would come to him easier than it had the night before.

He decided to get out the rosary novena booklet that Father Mike had given him as soon as he was ready to go to bed. Recalling his attempts to pray the rosary with his father when he was age seven, he thought that lying down on his bed and doing this would probably fulfill two goals; he would pray for his father, as he had wanted to, and this would probably put him to sleep sooner or later.

Entering his room, he set down the tray with what was left of the tea on a large, round metal table. On that same table, he noticed the still warm chili and BLTs that had been left there for his supper. He truly was starved, given that he had eaten nothing all day except two scones before he went to Mass in the morning. His anxiety over Trevor Broom's illness was definitely affecting his appetite.

Just seeing his father in a better state of health than on Friday improved his appetite immensely and he found the food actually looked appetizing. After he had finished eating, he put all the trays, bowls, and utensils onto a cart that was in the room. Wheeling it into the hallway, he left it by his door. Maintenance would arrive shortly to remove it.

Coming back into the room, he got out his old, clunky typewriter. Using only the index finger of his left hand, he carefully typed out the shorter version of the rosary prayers from the back pages of the booklet onto a single sheet of paper. With his less-than-functional, sledgehammer-sized right hand, this was only way he could read the prayers and deal with the rosary beads at the same time.

When he was finished, even though it was still early, he turned out all of the lights except the one near the bed. Lying down, he began to recite the prayers that he had copied out. He had certainly been right about one thing; attempting to recite the rosary was guaranteed to put him to sleep faster than a sleeping pill.

He had been about three-quarters of the way through the section called the 'Joyful Mysteries' when he fell fast asleep, still holding onto his father's rosary in his left hand. He slept all the way through the early evening and into the night; but about three o'clock in the morning, he was awakened by one of those nightmares he had been having recently.

Hellboy could never recall any details of these dreams, but he was seldom able to go back to sleep after having one. As he was awake again, he decided to make another attempt at praying the rosary. However, rather than staying in his room, he chose to return to the chapel and pray in there.

As the chapel was never closed, it was always available for patients in the Medical Wing and any others who wished to pray there. At this hour, it was usually empty. For some reason, the idea of being alone in the chapel with just his hopes and fears appealed to Hellboy.

The decision to go to the chapel at that particular time was made on a whim. Hellboy didn't realize, until years later, that this would end up resulting in one of the most significant friendships of his life.

Leaving his quarters, Hellboy walked to the Medical Wing and entered the now darkened chapel. There was always a low level of light, some coming from candles, including the red-globed candle that dangled from the ceiling near the altar, and some from the small light fixtures that illuminated a number of statues of saints. It was hard not to notice the slight scent of the rather pungent Byzantine incense Father Mike preferred when he celebrated the more important holidays and feast days.

Hellboy was just over seven years old when the chapel was installed. He often liked sneaking into it in the middle of the night. It seemed so spooky and mysterious. Even the slight hiss of the ventilation system in the dimly illuminated chapel seemed to contribute to the mystery. He never wanted to switch on the chapel's main lights.

At that earlier time, he had also been somewhat intrigued by the religious instruction his father had been giving him. Yet, it had not been hard for him to notice that some stared at him when he went to Mass with his father. Even at that young age, he became aware that many were wondering why someone who looked as he did would even want to go to church. So, Hellboy preferred being in the chapel alone and Trevor Broom pretended to ignore his occasional midnight excursions to the chapel.

By the time he was nine, the mystery had basically worn off and he stopped going to the chapel on a regular basis. Yet, he went through first communion and confirmation, mostly to please his father. After this, he only attended for major holidays and other times Trevor Broom especially wished it.

Now, once again he found himself going to the chapel late at night.

As Hellboy entered the apparently empty chapel, he was once again filled with the same sense of mystery and expectancy he used to feel when he was seven. There was a small rack of votive candles in front of the Virgin Mary, to the left of the altar. Walking up to this, he lit a candle for his father.

He then thought of Katie's father and lit another candle for Richard Corrigan. Martha Wilson had made his situation sound so dire that Hellboy suddenly felt more keenly the probable loss that Katie would suffer than his own possibly unwarranted fears about his own father.

Standing in silence, he gazed at the two candles he had lit; then sent up a wordless prayer that, against everyone's expectations, Richard Corrigan would be cured of his heart condition. His thoughts then turned toward Trevor Broom; and Hellboy wished he were five years old again, back before he suddenly became taller than his adoptive father. Back when, in his own eyes, Trevor Broom had seemed almost god-like in his ability to defeat their problems with the sheer force of his will alone.

Fourteen-year-old Hellboy usually dealt with problems in a direct, frontal-attack, no-holds-barred kind of way. Yet, his father's cancer was not some monster that he could smash into oblivion with his huge right hand or shoot, if he could hit anything, with his cannon-sized handgun, the Good Samaritan.

Hellboy felt so helpless, so powerless. And he wasn't used to feeling powerless.

Over the past several months, though, he had watched how Trevor Broom dealt with fear and pain; and knew that his father possessed a strength that was beyond his own, no matter how physically powerful he was. He began to realize, in a way that he never had when he was younger, that much of his father's strength derived from his Catholic faith; the same faith his father was trying to instill in him and he wished he had been paying more attention.

As he considered all these things, his thoughts turned to the rosary that he was once again holding in his left hand. He decided to move around the altar to be able to sit near one of the statues behind it, using the light there to recite the rosary prayers that he had typed out. It was at this point he discovered that he was not alone in the chapel.

It was a little darker directly behind the altar. As Hellboy walked around behind it, he almost stepped on a child lying asleep on the floor. Stopping short in surprise, he stooped down to look more closely at who this was. He then recognized Katie Corrigan, no longer in skirt and blouse, but in a white cotton nightgown with little flowers on it. Her blonde was hair loose on her shoulders.

Kneeling on the floor beside her, he touched her shoulder, "Hey, Katie, what are you doing here this time of night? It must be past four in the morning by now."

Katie sat up with a little cry, looking around her as if she did not know where she was.

She then looked at Hellboy kneeling beside her with his left hand on her shoulder, the rosary fallen forgotten on the floor. Hellboy could now see that her face was streaked with the partially dried tracks of tears that must have been shed before she fell asleep on the floor of the chapel.

"Oh, it's you," she said in a very small voice. "I came in here because I couldn't sleep. My father almost died tonight. I wish there was something I could do." She began to weep again.

Not really certain what to do, Hellboy wrapped his left arm around Katie's shoulders, making shushing noises while he held her. He could feel her small body shaking with her sobs; yet, he could find no words to speak to her. He seldom could find words, especially when he needed them the most.

She stopped crying after a short while and stood up from the floor. Hellboy bent over and picked up the rosary he had dropped, stuck it in his pants pocket for safekeeping, and stood back up as well.

Katie looked up at the red-skinned giant looming over her in the dim light and asked the first question that came to her mind, "Are you a Catholic? I'm sorry, that seems funny to me."

"It seems funny to a lot of people," Hellboy replied, "But my adoptive father's Catholic and he wanted me to be one too. So, yeah, I'm Catholic. I've been baptized, had first communion, the whole bit. And since you're Irish, I'm assuming you're Catholic too."

Katie shook her head and looked at the floor, "Not really. Sure, my father's Irish, but he doesn't go to church and my mother's not Catholic. I was baptized when I was a baby. That's it. I'm not sure why I came in here tonight, except I was looking for somewhere to cry where Mother wouldn't hear me. She's having enough problems right now. We don't always get along that good anyway."

She stopped, looked around the chapel, and then back up at Hellboy, "I'm sorry, I didn't think that anyone would come in here this late at night. I don't really want to bother you with all this stuff."

Hellboy knelt back down to be more on Katie's level. He disliked towering over children who really weren't that much younger than he was.

"Don't worry about it, Katie," he said, "I'm practically the only one who comes here this late at night, and I haven't done this in years. But, you know, the chapel's here for people to come to when things are bothering them so they can pray about it, especially people from the Medical Wing."

Katie looked into Hellboy's face, which was now more on a level with her own. This odd face, with its red skin and sawed-off horns, didn't look half so frightening as it had when she had seen Hellboy in the hallway carrying the tray with tea for his father.

"Hellboy," she said after a short silence, "You said before that your father was sick too. Is that the reason you came here? To pray for him?"

"Yeah," Hellboy pulled the rosary beads out of his pocket, "I'm still worried about my father even though everyone tells me that he's getting better. There's nothing else I can do and since my father puts such stock in this stuff, I thought I'd try it out."

"I wish I knew how to pray," sighed Katie, "If I did, I'd pray for my father to get better. I miss him. Even when I get to see him, he doesn't even know me anymore. He's the one who calls me 'Katie', you know. My mother calls me 'Katherine', which I don't like."

"I don't really know how to pray that good," said Hellboy, "I used to have this book about the rosary, but I lost it. So, I asked Father Mike to give me something."

Hellboy pulled out of his pant's pocket the paper he had typed the prayers on, "He gave me this book and I copied the prayers out to make it easier for me to read them. If you want, I could show you how to do it while I'm doing it myself. Maybe we could pray for our fathers together."

"I'd like that," Katie took the rosary from Hellboy to look at it closer, "I wish I could have something like this to pray with. It's so pretty. What's it made out of?"

"The big beads are olivewood and the small ones ivory," replied Hellboy, "I gave it to Pop about three years ago as a Father's Day gift. He almost always wears it around his wrist, but the nurses were afraid of it getting messed up in the hospital, so I'm taking care of it for him. I usually wear it around my own wrist and that's what got me to thinking about praying with it like he does when he's upset about something. But if you really want to pray with me, I have another rosary I could lend you."

Hellboy stood back up, "Why don't you wait here, Katie, while I go and get it. I'll show you something you can do while I'm gone." He led Katie over to the rack of candles in front of the statue of Mary and showed her how to light one.

"You see," he said, "you light one of these when you're thinking about someone and it's like praying. See, I've already lit two candles. There's one for my father and one for yours."

Katie turned from looking at the two candles to smile up at Hellboy. "You lit a candle for my father? That was nice."

Hellboy returned her smile. "Just do me a favor," he said, as he turned to leave, "Don't set yourself on fire while I'm away."

Katie lit a candle after Hellboy departed to get the rosary. Weeping quietly, she thought of her father. She then smiled slightly, lit another candle, and stood pondering the two glowing candles. She looked up as Hellboy returned, this time also wearing his tan-colored leather trench coat.

"See," she said pointing out the second candle she had lit, "I lit one for your father, too."

"Hey," he touched her shoulder, "I appreciate that."

Hellboy took Katie's right hand in his left, leading her around the altar. "Let's go to that statue of Saint Francis over there. We can use the light to read the prayers."

They sat on the floor next to the base of the statue where there was a pool of light from the fixture that illuminated the statue. Hellboy reached into a pocket of his coat and brought out a rosary that was about the same size as the one he had showed her before, but this one had all wooden beads.

"This rosary is a very special one. My father had it with him when he found me. Take good care of it. I usually keep it in my room hanging off the frame of this picture."

He brought out an old black-and-white photograph, enclosed in a fancy silver frame that was somewhat too large for it. It showed a group of soldiers, some in circus costumes, posing with a younger Professor Broom, who was holding a relatively small Hellboy in his arms.

"They weren't supposed to take pictures of me, so this is the only one I have of Father and me when I was little. The guys put together a circus for my fourth birthday."

Taking the photograph from him, Katie looked at it more closely. As he watched her, Hellboy reflected on things that he had never truly considered before.

"Look at me smiling. That was before I hated having my picture taken, before I understood that I was so different, before I got so big. You know, Katie, by the time I was six years old, I was already an inch taller than my father. When I was little, he looked like such a giant to me. Now, I'm not even fifteen years old and I tower over him by at least a foot. I hate this, especially now that he's so sick."

Katie looked up from the picture at the giant who was seated on the floor next to her. He wasn't anything like she had expected from that first meeting in the corridor. He might look like a monster, but was nothing more than a kid who worried as much about his father as she worried about her own.

Putting the photograph down, she stood up, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek.

Hellboy smiled at her from his still seated position. "What was that for?" he asked.

"Because I think you're real nice," she whispered. "Just wait here for a second and I'll be right back."

Katie quickly walked out of the chapel and snuck back into the room where she was supposed to be sleeping with her mother. Retrieving something, she returned to the chapel. As she was doing this, she was seen by one of the early-shift nurses, who wondered what she was doing, but did not have the time to check on her.

Sitting back down on the floor next to Hellboy, Katie showed him a picture of herself with her father. "I'm three years old here. I have a lot of pictures, but this one is my favorite. I brought it with me when we came to the hospital. See, now we both have pictures of us with our fathers."

Hellboy looked at the picture without saying anything. He then handed Katie the rosary he brought for her. Shifting to lean against the wall, he decided that the best way for them both to be able to read the prayers he had typed out was for Katie to sit on his lap.

Covering her with his coat in order to keep her warm, he then explained how to recite the rosary. They began with the 'Joyful Mysteries', managing to get through this before becoming too sleepy to go on with the other two 'Mysteries'. After reciting the ending prayers, they sat together for a long time, pondering what they felt for their fathers and how much they wanted them to get better.

Around 5:30 in the morning, the nurse who had seen Katie over a half hour before wondered what she was doing. She decided to enter the chapel, but did not see anything at first.

Walking to the front of the chapel, she then saw Katie sitting in Hellboy's lap. Both were fast asleep, holding rosaries in their left hands. As she walked closer, she saw the two photographs they had on the floor in front of them.

Kneeling down, she looked at the photograph of the young Hellboy in the arms of Professor Broom. She recalled that, the day before, one of the other nurses had told her about seeing Hellboy at Mass and how worried he was about his adoptive father's illness.

She, herself, had laughed at the idea of someone who looked like a demon from Hell going to Mass, receiving communion, or being worried about his 'father'. Kneeling next to him on the floor of chapel, she came to understand why her colleague found that laughter so offensive. Why she had been told that she never understood Hellboy at all if that was all she could see in him. She finally realized that she was seeing nothing less than two children, both with ill fathers, attempting to comfort each other.

Leaning toward Hellboy, she lightly shook his shoulder. As he awakened, she whispered, "I think it's time that I put Katie to bed. It's going to be six in the morning soon." She squeezed Hellboy's shoulder gently, got up, and managed to lift Katie from Hellboy's lap without rousing her.

She then carried her out to the room where she was sleeping with her mother and, thankfully, managed to get her back in bed before her mother ever noticed anything.

Hellboy got up from the floor, picking up the rosary that Katie dropped. He also retrieved both photographs and stowed everything in the pockets of his coat; except for the rosary that he had given his father as a gift. This he again wrapped around his left wrist, as he had promised he would do while taking care of it.

He went over to the nurses' station and found that his father usually ate breakfast around 8:30am. Returning to his quarters, he managed to get a few more hours of sleep before bringing Trevor Broom the tea and soda bread he had promised to bring him for breakfast. He was more than glad to see that his father's condition was even further improved.

Hellboy spoke with Katie's mother later that day, getting her approval for Katie to meet with him in the chapel every evening before they went to bed. She wasn't exactly keen on all this Catholic stuff, or her daughter spending so much time with such an odd creature; but she could see that it was helping Katie and decided not to interfere.

Hellboy and Katie prayed together every evening in the same way as they had on that first evening, reciting a different 'Mystery' of the rosary each night.

By Friday, Richard Corrigan was stable enough to sustain the new surgical procedure. He did fairly well for a time. Katie was able to visit the following Sunday and was happy that he recognized her.

Two days later, he was well enough to sit up, eat some food, and to have a significant conversation with Katie about faith and prayer. Even though her father no longer cared to attend formal services, she came to see that his own personal faith was very intense and deeply felt. She told him that she wanted to receive communion like other Catholic children her age and he agreed to this.

The next day, Father Mike Elliott came to talk with Richard. It was decided that Katie be immediately instructed to receive communion. The following Sunday, she received her first communion at her father's bedside. Hellboy was there as well, but her rather disapproving mother declined to attend.

After the ritual was over and everyone had hugged and kissed Katie, Richard asked Hellboy about his father and was glad to hear about the improvement in his condition. He also thanked Hellboy for befriending Katie when she had needed someone.

Taking Katie's hand, Hellboy smiled down at her. "I think we needed each other, Sir."

Over the next month, despite some setbacks, Trevor Broom's condition continued to improve. Unfortunately, Richard Corrigan's condition never completely stabilized. Near the end of September, he had to be rushed in for emergency surgery and died of cardiac arrest on the operating table.

Katie was devastated by this loss. When Hellboy tried to express his sympathy, she turned on him. "You made me hope that if I prayed hard enough he would get better. I hate you."

Katie, vainly attempting to hold back tears, walked away from him. He was wounded by her rejection, but understood why she was angry. He realized that he might have unintentionally given her pain by inadvertently encouraging this disappointed hope.

A few days later, Hellboy was given other things to worry about when he was informed in the middle of the night that his father was gravely ill.

Trevor Broom had been suffering increasing pain in his right leg due to arthritis from an old wound. His recent enforced bed rest had exacerbated this. Administration of a new medication had caused an allergic reaction that affected his heart and he went into cardiac arrest before they managed to track down the cause of his problem. He had been successfully resuscitated, but was still unconscious.

If Hellboy thought that he had been worried before, it was nothing compared to what he felt as he entered his father's room, seeing him lying on the bed as if dead. The only thing that was the least reassuring was the continuing beep of the heart monitor.

There was a nurse stationed in the room to monitor Trevor Broom's continuing progress. She had been told to let Hellboy stay with his father for as long as he wished as long as he remained quiet.

She smiled reassuringly as Hellboy entered, but he barely noticed her. He knelt by the side of the bed and remained for a long time as immobile as a statue, never touching Broom nor speaking to him.

After this time of complete silence, Hellboy bent his head closer and whispered something very low into his father's ear. He continued whispering for a long time, but whatever it was that he had said to Trevor Broom, he never repeated to anyone.

After Hellboy finished speaking, he continued kneeling in a profound silence for many hours. Eventually, he collapsed to the floor in total exhaustion and rested his head on the side of the bed. Raising it again, after a few minutes, he looked closely into Broom's face and reached up with this normal-size left hand to gently grasp his father's hand in is own

Laying his head back down on the side of the bed, Hellboy fell asleep in this position; still clasping Trevor Broom's hand. When a new nurse arrived to relieve the first nurse, she woke him and tried to convince him to go to bed. He just shook his head. The other nurses coming into attend to Broom didn't have the heart to make him move, even though this was somewhat awkward for them.

Martha Wilson came in the early morning. She encouraged Hellboy to get up from the floor and sit in his usual large chair; letting him move this chair a little closer to the bed than usual.

Katie was still within the confines of the Medical Wing when Trevor Broom fell ill, as her mother was involved in making arrangements for the removal of her husband's body. Martha Wilson informed Katie of what had happened to Trevor Broom. "I hope he dies just like my father did. Then Hellboy can know just how I feel." Martha knew that Katie didn't truly mean this and was glad that Hellboy wasn't around to hear her say it.

Yet, deep inside, Katie was already starting to feel sorry for the way she had been treating Hellboy. She knew he had only been trying to help her. The more she tried to stay angry with him, the more miserable she felt.

Katie had never yet met Trevor Broom, even though Hellboy had tried to bring her to visit several times in the past. She did know, however, where his room was located.

The night after Trevor Broom had fallen ill, Katie was alone and having trouble sleeping. She was desperate to see Hellboy again and knew that he was probably still in his father's room.

Dressing herself in a skirt and blouse, she went to the room. Slowly opening the door, she looked in and saw Hellboy sitting asleep in a chair next to his unconscious father's bed.

Seeing Katie, the nurse stationed there went to the door. "Honey, now really isn't the best time."

Lifting his head at the sound of the nurse's voice, Hellboy saw Katie and held his arms out to her.

Katie pushed past the nurse. Running to Hellboy, she threw her arms around him and began to cry. Never saying one word about Katie's recent behavior toward him, Hellboy drew her up into his lap and held her in his arms until she cried herself to sleep.

As soon as Katie had fallen asleep, the nurse wanted to take her back to her room, but Hellboy said, "Go on and let her stay. Her mother's still away and I don't like the idea of Katie being alone tonight."

Hellboy let Katie sleep in his lap until she awoke the next morning.

A nurse brought them some breakfast, along with a chair for Katie. Hellboy, who had not been eating well since his father's cardiac arrest, tried to eat a little because Katie was there. After they were done eating, Katie curled back up in Hellboy's lap again and they both went back to sleep.

Several hours later, Hellboy was awakened by a very weak voice. "Son? What has happened to me? Have I been unwell?" Trevor Broom struggled to sit up, but he was unable.

Approaching the bed, the attendant nurse briefly examined him. "I will go get Dr. Patterson. He will inform you of what has happened." She departed to get the chief surgeon.

Katie climbed down from Hellboy's lap as he moved from the chair. Throwing himself onto his knees by the bed, he grabbed his father's hand, his heart filled with gratitude.

Everything that Hellboy felt for his father just made him even more aware of how devastating Katie's loss must be for her. He couldn't understand why he was being allowed to keep his father; while this eight-year-old girl he had come to care for so much had to lose hers.

Hellboy struggled to speak, but no words would come. Finally, for the first time since his arrival to the room two nights before, he just buried his face in the bedclothes and wept.

This evidence of his son's affection touched Trevor Broom very deeply. He was also starting to realize that he must have been very sick, even though he had little memory of this. In spite of his weakness and Hellboy still clutching his left hand, he strove to reach over and embrace him.

Katie, who had still been in the room, ran over to Hellboy, "Please don't! Please don't cry anymore. He's going to be fine. Please."

Hellboy took a deep, shuddering breath and raised his head, "Well, Pop, you certainly like doing things to get a guy's attention, don't you? I don't mind, really. Just, next time, give a guy a little warning and don't do it in the middle of the night."

Already starting to feel a little stronger, Trevor Broom embraced Hellboy as he leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Then turning toward Katie, Trevor Broom held out his hand, "You must be Katie. I cannot tell you how devastated I am by your loss. Your father was both a good colleague and a good friend. He will be sorely missed. I just wish we could have met under better circumstances."

As he gave Katie's hand a little squeeze, Dr. Robert Patterson entered the room to examine him and explain what had made him so ill. Deciding it was time to leave, Hellboy stood up. He knew his presence usually made Dr. Patterson uncomfortable.

As Hellboy walked past him, he touched the doctor's shoulder. "Take good care of him for me."

Taking Katie with him, Hellboy left his father's room. Asking permission to take Katie out into the main building, he took her to his quarters where he arranged to have food sent for lunch.

Katie looked around at the comfortable mess that made up a large percentage of Hellboy's room and admired his three different television sets. She noted that the framed photograph of Hellboy and Trevor Broom was back hanging on the wall.

Hellboy went to a paper-strewn desk. Retrieving the photograph of Katie with her father, he handed it back to her. She had left it in the chapel earlier that week.

By this time, the food for lunch had arrived: chili, corn chips, grilled cheese sandwiches, french-fries, and Coca-Cola. Even though Katie found the chili a little too spicy, she enjoyed the rest of the food. Once Katie had become full, Hellboy ate up everything that was left. Now that he wasn't so worried about his father, his appetite had returned.

Katie tried to apologize for the way she had been treating Hellboy recently, but he stopped her. "Look, you were upset after your father died. I can't blame you for that. Let's just forget about the rest of it. I know you didn't mean most of what you said."

After lunch, they sat together on his couch and watched television until George Baldwin, his father's current assistant, arrived to inform Katie that her mother had arrived. Hellboy, as he led Katie back to the Medical Wing, suddenly realized how much he was going to miss her once she was gone.

Mrs. Corrigan was already waiting with all of their belongings packed up. She was impatient to go; but Katie, who was only just then coming to realize what this departure would mean, was unwilling to go without a final visit to the chapel with Hellboy.

Walking in, they went over to the statue of Mary and its rack of votive candles. There were so many things that Hellboy wanted to say to Katie, but he remained silent for a long time.

"You can still light a candle for your father," he finally said, "You know, if you're Catholic you can still pray for people even after they've died."

He could have kicked himself. That was not at all what he wanted to say to her. Yet, Katie smiled up at him as if he had just said the most brilliant thing in the world and proceeded to light every candle that was in the rack.

Hellboy knelt down next to where Katie was standing, putting his left arm around her shoulders, "When I lived in New Mexico there were some other families that lived on the secret base where I stayed with Father. Some of the kids there had brothers and sisters. I remember asking Pop if he couldn't get me a little brother or sister. He got me a puppy."

Pulling Katie closer, Hellboy hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek, "Now, I feel like I really do have a little sister. I'm going to miss you so much."

Giving him a big smile, Katie returned the hug. "I like the idea of having a big brother. You know, those candles I lit weren't all just for my father. Some were for your father, but all of the rest of them were for you. I figured that you were so big I would need to light more than one candle."

Pulling something from a skirt pocket, Katie handed it to Hellboy. It was the photograph of Katie and her father he had returned to her earlier. "I want you to keep this. You knew my father before he died and now you know me. You can hang this picture on the wall next to the picture of you with your father. When you look at our picture, you can think of us."

Hellboy was surprised, if pleased, by the gesture. "But, Katie, this is your favorite picture of you with your father. I don't want you give that up."

Katie shook her head, "I have a lot of other pictures of me with my father. It's because this one is so special that I want you to have it."

Katie reached into her pocket again. "Oh, I almost forgot something." She brought out the wooden rosary that Hellboy had lent her. "I should give this back to you."

Taking the rosary, Hellboy placed it in a pants pocket. Hesitating, he pulled it out again and handed it back to her. "Nah, I want you to keep this. I can't be giving you pictures of me, even if I wanted to. Maybe when you pray with this once in a while, you can think of me and my father."

Hellboy pulled something else out of his pocket. "Here's that book of rosary novenas that Father Mike gave me. I don't really need it now. Once I've memorized something, I almost never forget it. Maybe if we're both praying for my father, he'll get better even faster."

Katie tucked the rosary and booklet into her skirt pocket, looked down at the floor, and started to cry. "We won't ever see each other again, will we?"

Standing up, Hellboy took her hand to lead her out of the chapel, "Probably not, I'm afraid, at least not anytime soon. I'm not supposed to exist, you know. My father does know your address, though. Don't be surprised if you get a letter from a Frank Redford of Brooklyn or his son Frank Redford, Jr."

He smiled down at her, "And it's okay if you answer these letters. Whatever you write to one of them I'll eventually get to hear about. Just make sure you never mention me or the BPRD and we should be able to keep in touch occasionally."

Hellboy returned to the chapel after Katie was gone and prayed all the way through all fifteen decades of the rosary, completely from memory. He continued doing this almost every evening for weeks.

One evening in early December his father's assistant, George Baldwin, came to the chapel and said that his father was asking for him. Hellboy walked out and went toward his father's hospital room.

George stopped him with a smile, "He's not there. You'll find him in his office."

Hellboy turned to him, "Go on and tell him I'll be there in just a minute, George." Walking back into the chapel, he fell to his knees in front of the statue of Mary.

"Thank you," he whispered. These two words were his most heart-felt prayer of all.

* * *

**_Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense  
Newark, New Jersey, Early November 2004_**

It was seven o'clock in the evening by the time Kate Corrigan landed at Newark International Airport, having taken longer than she even expected to finally take off from Pittsburgh. Taking a taxi from the Newark airport, she gave directions to the head office of Squeaky Clean Waste Management Services.

She was practically asleep by the time the taxi approached the entrance drive of what was really the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. Yet, the only posted signs referred to the waste management company the organization purported to be.

The driver was a little surprised at the elegance of a refuse facility that had a perpetual flame beyond the gated entrance to the property. "Hey, lady," he shouted from the front seat, "This is a pretty fancy place for garbage collectors, isn't it? And what's with that statue on the roof?"

Kate became more alert. "Statue? What statue?" In spite of the rain, she put her window down and craned her head out, looking toward the main building. Yes, it did appear that there was a statue on the entranceway roof.

For most people, the dark and rain would obscure details. Yet, to Kate's familiar eyes, it was obviously Hellboy who was standing motionless on that roof. His immense pain and sorrow radiated to her even from that distance.

Pulling her now wet head back into the cab, she knocked on the glass between her and the cab driver. "Stop the car here. I'll walk the rest of the way. You wouldn't be able to drive past the gate, anyway. These aren't 'garbage collectors'. This is a waste management facility. There's a big difference."

Kate paid off the driver, leaving him with a hefty tip. Opening her umbrella, she picked up her satchel and walked the rest of the distance to the gate at the main entrance.

She could see why the cab driver had mistaken Hellboy for a statue. The whole time she was walking, the figure on the roof never moved a muscle. She knew he must be absolutely soaked and wondered how long he had been up there.

Arriving at the gate, Kate pushed one of the many buttons. When a voice asked her name, she spoke it into the grillwork microphone. Usually, the voice would make some joke about the retinal scanner that dropped down, but this time it said, "Welcome back, Dr. Corrigan. In spite of the sad occasion, it's good to see you again."

"It's good to be back," she replied as she leaned in toward the scanner. Mere seconds later, information about her status with the BPRD flashed on the scanner's screen and the gate swung open.

As she walked toward the entranceway, she looked up at Hellboy. He appeared to be staring into the far distance, not having noticed her approach.

She finally entered into the huge main lobby. It was a veritable palace of dark wood and marble. There was a single desk with a single guard at the end of this empty, museum-like room.

Dropping her satchel by the huge sword-in-fist logo that was in the middle of the floor, Kate walked up to the desk. "It's good to see you again, Pete," she said as she embraced the guard.

"Same here, Kate," he said, returning the embrace and kissing her cheek. "How long has it been? Four years, five?"

"Something like that," she replied, "Maybe it's been too long. I never imagined we would lose Trevor in this way. I wish I had returned more often. It seems like it was just yesterday that I signed up for a class with a Dr. 'Bruttenholm' at NYU when I was nineteen, only to find out that he was the same Professor 'Broom' my father had worked with and I had met when I was eight. I never knew the name was not spelled as it was pronounced."

Kate was avoiding what was really upper-most in her mind, but after a short pause she finally asked, "Tell me, why is Hellboy stuck up on the roof like that? How long has he been up there?"

Pete shook his head, "All day, Kate. He's been up there all day since early this morning. No one can get him to come down. We're all so furious with Tom Manning and his blessed FBI that it's a wonder we haven't all quit. We knew that the FBI had no intention of letting him go to the Professor's funeral. That would be a very public affair. But the Professor was like a father to him and what went on here this morning was completely private, attended only by people with clearance."

He began to pace, "Those FBI stuffed-shirts refused to let him see anyone or be seen by anyone. They wouldn't even let him see the Professor's body once they finally dragged him away from it on the night of the murder. On top of that, they let some greenhorn agent, who only came to work here the day before the murder, take what should have been his place carrying the coffin out to the hearse."

Pete stopped pacing, turning back toward her once again. "Well, as you can see, he took things into his own hands, making a very dramatic appearance where everyone could see him for miles around. And he just stood up there in the pouring rain, watching while they carried the Professor's coffin out and drove away with it."

Kate turned away, burying her face in her hands, not wanting to hear any more.

Pete came over and hugged her. After a few moments, Kate separated from the embrace and walked back to where her satchel was on the floor.

"Well, I better go and see if there isn't something I can do."

Kate picked up her satchel and stood directly in the middle of the sword-in-fist logo. Pete pushed a button and a hidden platform elevator sunk into the floor conveying Kate down into the underground facilities that made up the main headquarters of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense.

Kate knew which fire escapes led up to that portion of the building that would have access to the roof over the entranceway. How many times, since she had come to work for the Bureau in the eighties, did she climb up there with Hellboy to talk about things, to reminisce over shared memories, or just look at the stars on a clear night?

Neither of them had grown up to be particularly conventional Catholics, but they still prayed together at times of trouble. That was something she had missed during her recent hiatus from the Bureau.

These newer facilities in Newark had an even larger chapel than the one in Boston that Kate remembered with such fond memories. Even so, when the weather had allowed, the roof had become the location of choice for them to meet, especially after sunset when everything around them was covered in a golden glow.

This November evening, there was no golden glow or bright stars as she climbed out onto the roof. There was just dark, and wind, and a driving rain—and Hellboy standing, unmoving, as water cascaded down and soaked through his leather coat.

During the decades of their relationship, Kate and Hellboy had gone through many different phases: brother and sister, best friends, colleagues, even lovers for a brief time.

Yet, as Kate looked at Hellboy now, all she could see was her 'big brother'. How much pain he was in, as he clutched in his left hand the ivory and olivewood rosary that he once gave as a gift to the man he called Father for almost sixty years.

Even though it was then raining harder than ever, Kate carried no umbrella. She couldn't abide the idea of remaining dry while the one she loved as a brother was being soaked through. Unable to think of anything to say, she stood in silence.

"Katie?" Hellboy's voice cut through the silence. This surprised her. He had his back to her and had never appeared to notice her arrival.

"Katie, go back in and leave me alone. I don't want to see anyone, not even you."

She moved to stand at Hellboy's side. They both stood unmoving in the pouring rain, not even looking at each other.

After a long silence, Hellboy finally spoke again. "They killed my father, Katie. They murdered him. Father tried to warn me, but I wouldn't listen to him. He tried to tell me that things were different, but I ignored him. I was too wrapped up in my own crap to be here to protect him. Now he's dead and it's all my fault."

He heaved a huge sigh, "I used to think that I was the lucky one. My father lived. Now, I think that you were the lucky one. Your father never lived long enough for you to start taking him for granted. Now, go on in and dry yourself off."

These were the last words that Hellboy spoke to anyone for days.

Kate eventually did go back into the building, leaving him still standing on the roof. At some point, many hours later, he must have come back into the building. The next morning they found that he had collected up weeks worth of food for his cats and figured a way to bolt his door from the inside. He refused to see anyone or eat anything.

At some point, Kate, and Hellboy's colleagues, fish-man Abe Sapien and Liz Sherman, had pounded on his solid-metal door without receiving any reply.

After Trevor Broom's murder, Tom Manning, the FBI liaison, had been appointed director of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. He was especially frustrated with Hellboy's behavior. The FBI wanted the BPRD to investigate the murder from their end; and Hellboy, who was considered the Bureau's chief field investigator, refused to come out of his room.

After more than three days of this, an exhausted and starving Hellboy unexpectedly came stumbling out of his room.

"Okay," grumbled Manning, "Maybe we can actually start some investigating here. What in the hell were you doing all that time, anyway?"

"I was praying, what else." Hellboy turned to Kate, Liz, and Abe who he knew had all been very worried about him. "Let's head for the main kitchen. My father told me to go get something to eat."

Several days later, Agent John Myers was looking for Hellboy in order to depart for Moscow to catch those who had murdered Trevor Broom. He finally located him in the chapel.

Hellboy was seated on the floor and Dr. Kate Corrigan, a woman now in her early fifties, was curled up in his lap like a little girl. Both were fast asleep and both held rosaries in their left hands. Kate also had a very tattered, gray-covered book of rosary novenas.

On the floor in front of them were two old photographs in tarnished silver frames—Hellboy in the arms of a very young Professor Broom and little Katie in her father's arms.


	6. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 1

_Hi, to all the people who have been reading my stuff and leaving such great comments. I have decided to put Chapter Five up in parts as I am writing. I'm afraid that it may be a while before I can bring this story to it's conclusion, but it won't be as long as you would think. I, myself, don't always know exactly where my stories are heading and often feel compelled to write so I can find out for myself._

**Author's Notes: **This is my first attempt at writing Abe Sapien. I love this character dearly, but for many reasons writing about him has been difficult for me. I saw the film before I read any of Mignola's original comics. I worshiped the movie, but it wasn't really until after reading the original comics that I felt compelled to write about Hellboy and the people in his life that could be considered his 'family'. The primary problem that I have with Abe is that as much as I loved his character in the movie, I like Mignola's original character even more. In general, the stories I have been writing have been based on the movie; hence the basic avoidance of writing about Abe at all. I want to correct this omission here and hope that I can reconcile an Abe that is closer to my take on Mignola's original character to a movieverse story.

I am going to avoid creating a detailed origin story for Abe; "B.P.R.D.: A Plague of Frogs" deals with that and I don't want to create one that will deviate from what Mignola has in mind. I've not read all of "A Plague of Frogs" yet and I am assuming that some others haven't finished it either. The things from director Guillermo del Toro's character in the movie that I will be discarding are the goggles and respirator; they work well enough in the film due to del Toro's personal obsession with things mechanical, but they are not part of Mignola's original character, so I prefer not using them.

I'm taking the rating of Hellboy's Family up to PG13, mostly for language and violence. Beware of possible SPOILERS if you haven't seen the movie.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part One**

_**Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense,  
**__**Newark, New Jersey, October to December 1978**_

There was still about a week to go before Halloween and Hellboy was bored stiff. The man that he called 'Father' had promised him that if he were especially good this month he would be allowed to go somewhere for Halloween; supervised by other agents, of course, and to be seen by no one else except these agents. Hellboy wished that for once, just once, he could go out all by himself like other people did. A guy who is just short of his thirty-fourth birthday does get tired of feeling like a puppy on a leash.

He stood up from the bed that he had been lying on and stretched his large frame, trying to decide if he wanted to lift weights or sand down his horn stubs further. He decided to go for sanding down his horns. Gone were the days when he had to do this by hand with a file. He loved the new electric sander his father had given him for his birthday last year. It made a god-awful racket, but it certainly did the job faster and easier.

He walked over to the section of his quarters that had the bathroom facilities, switched on a light there, and fetched his sander down from a shelf over his sink. He proceeded to grind down his horns as he watched himself in a large mirror that was on the wall.

As he performed this evening ritual, he was reminded of why he was never permitted to venture forth into the outside world unsupervised. Why he seldom got to meet new people. He was a seven-foot tall, three hundred and fifty pound, red-skinned demon—complete with a tail, horns, cloven hooves, and a huge right hand that looked like a stone glove and was almost five times too large for the size of his body.

He wasn't human and no amount of sanding down the horns on his forehead, even twice a day, could ever make him appear acceptable to that outside world he so wanted to live in. Hellboy hated looking so different; frankly, he didn't feel all that different inside from those humans that he had lived and worked with his entire life.

A human male, who loved Hellboy dearly, had raised him from infancy; this affection was mutual even if Hellboy seldom expressed it in words. He worked as a monster hunter and paranormal investigator along with a small group of human colleagues who looked on him with the same affection, respect, and loyalty that he felt for them.

Hellboy's main source of entertainment for over thirty years had been a steady diet of American television and movies. This all left him filled with the same needs and desires as most human males with little outlet to express them.

Outside of his relationship with Trevor 'Broom' Bruttenholm, his adoptive father, the most fulfilling aspect of Hellboy's life was his career as an agent for the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, a secret adjunct organization to the FBI directed by Broom; yet, at the same time, this connection to the BPRD left Hellboy feeling trapped.

Hellboy's entire life for over thirty years had been almost solely confined to the Bureau and its precincts. The general public that he defended did not know of his existence. The other agents he worked with had outside lives; even Trevor Broom, in addition to his duties as director of the BPRD, had another life as a professor of folklore at New York University and had an apartment in Brooklyn that Hellboy seldom got to visit.

Hellboy often felt that his sole claim to fame within the Bureau, outside of his enormous size and strength, was as its only non-human agent; this was the one way that he could feel proud of his mysterious supernatural origins. The possibility never occurred to him that the Bureau could someday contain another being of non-human origins. It never even came into his wildest dreams that Trevor Broom might possibly develop a paternal affection toward another being, whether human or not.

Hellboy had spent decades of his life as an only child. He was not used to sharing anything that he looked upon as solely his own, especially not his father's attentions; Hellboy was soon to learn a hard lesson about jealousy.

After Hellboy had finished sanding down his horns he sat back down on his bed and idly flipped through channels using the remote control for one of his newest television sets. There was nothing on that interested him. There was also a VHS player attached to this television, but his collection of tapes was still quite small and he had already watched each of these many times.

Switching off the television in disgust, Hellboy laid back down on his bed. But it was still early and he wasn't really sleepy yet. He knew that his father would really like him to start reading more and had recommended Kate Corrigan's latest edition of Introduction to Folklore, originally written by her late father, Richard Corrigan.

Broom had been hoping that Hellboy's friendship with Kate would encourage him to read this book. When Hellboy did have the occasional chance to meet up with the woman who was one of his closest friends, lively conversations with her on folklore and the paranormal always interested him. But, unfortunately, he found the rather academic prose in her books as boring as his father's writings often seemed to him.

Hellboy decided to see if his father was in his office. Sometimes, there was some new item or relic that his father had picked up that would be of interest. Since Hellboy had been on his best behavior this month, he pretty much had free rein to wander around the Bureau headquarters. He made his way to his father's office.

Trevor Broom was now in his early sixties; this fact, combined with the long-term effects of a major bout with cancer in his early forties, meant that he worked late less often in the evenings than he had when Hellboy had been young.

Sometimes, though, Hellboy could still find his father in his office this late in the evening, but he would usually just be puttering around, reading a favorite book, or listening to music. Real work after nine o'clock at night usually indicated something important or some sudden emergency.

Hellboy pulled open the beautiful oak door that led into his father's office. The wood of this door almost looked like burnished gold and stood out against the rather stark décor of the corridor.

At first, as he walked in, the large and beautifully furnished office looked unoccupied. But he heard a voice call down from the upper mezzanine that was reached by a spiral staircase; the voice was that of Broom's assistant Mark Baldwin.

"Professor Broom received an important phone call from Washington three hours ago," Mark said as he descended the staircase to the lower level, "He took an agent as a driver and went out immediately after the call. The driver took him to the Newark airport where there was a special shuttle waiting to fly him to Washington. He told me nothing about the nature of the call, but I am assuming it was very important. I decided that it would be worthwhile to wait up for a while, so I've been catching up on some extra work."

Hellboy was a little surprised with the suddenness of all of this; "It's weird enough him going off this late in the day, but why not tell me he was going out? Did he say how long he was going to be away?"

Mark shook his head, "I received the impression that whatever this is, it's really big and probably classified in some way. The only thing that I caught was a mention of one of the hospitals in Washington; St. Trinian's I believe."

Hellboy shrugged, "Thanks for the info, Mark. I hope Pop won't be coming back here in the wee hours of the morning. He gets cranky when he doesn't get enough sleep."

Hellboy wandered over to one of the many bookshelves that filled the office from floor to ceiling. "I think I'll hang around here myself. I'm kind of curious what would have dragged him out of here all of a sudden. While I'm waiting I think I'll take a look at Katie's book like he wanted me to."

He fetched down Kate's recent edition of the textbook on folklore from a shelf and sat down in a large chair near his father's desk to skim over the introduction and foreword. He noted the dedication at the beginning of the book to her late father, Richard Corrigan, and to Hellboy's adoptive father, Trevor Bruttenholm, the mentor of her college years.

Hellboy had first met Kate in Boston in 1959 when her father had been hospitalized for a heart condition in the BPRD's medical facility at the same time that Trevor Broom had been located there for treatment for cancer. Fourteen-year-old Hellboy and eight-year-old Katie had struck up an immediate, supportive, and long-lasting friendship. Hellboy wished, not for the first time, that he could convince Kate to work as a consultant for the BPRD like her father had done before he died the year they met.

Kate now had a rewarding career as professor of folklore at NYU, but she would be a good asset to the Bureau. This also would mean that she would be around Bureau headquarters in Newark more often; her presence might liven the place up a bit and maybe Hellboy could drag her out into the field with him on occasion. He could show her some folklore in action instead of this boring theory she was always writing about.

After sitting and musing on these thoughts for a while, Hellboy realized that what he was really doing was avoiding reading the book. Even though he was sometimes interested in folklore and theories of the paranormal, he detested reading books and articles on these topics. He often avoided reading anything whatsoever, except for his favorite comic books. This had been a constant bone of contention during Hellboy's teenage years.

From the time he had been very young Hellboy had always tested at a high level of intelligence, almost to the level of genius. This intelligence, coupled with his talent for memorization, could have turned Hellboy into a walking encyclopedia on folklore and the paranormal. He often amazed both Kate and his father with what he could recall.

But Hellboy's basic temperament was very different from the man who was raising him. He found academics and research infinitely boring; Trevor Broom often felt that Hellboy was turning what could be a brilliant career as a paranormal investigator into a mere job as a kind of supernatural pest exterminator.

Broom saw Hellboy as having the potential to be the Bureau's greatest research expert, even greater than Broom himself. But he had given up nagging Hellboy over his lack of diligence in study in much the same way that he had given up trying to get him to try new foods, listen to classical music, watch foreign-language films, or read great literature.

It was almost three o'clock in the morning before Trevor Broom returned to the Bureau's underground facilities in Newark. He decided to briefly check on things in his office before retiring to his sleeping quarters. Mark Baldwin had retired for the night around eleven in the evening leaving Hellboy still struggling to get beyond the introduction to Kate's textbook. Hellboy was still there when Broom walked in, but was now fast asleep.

Broom smiled to himself as he bent over to pick up the textbook that Hellboy had dropped when he fell asleep. He placed it on his desk and then lightly tapped Hellboy's shoulder to wake him up.

Hellboy sat up and looked around the office, "Jeez, Pop, you startled me. I forgot I was still here." His eye caught the time on the face of a beautiful oak wall clock that Broom had brought to America when he moved from England. "You better get to bed, Pop. And I hope you aren't planning on getting up at six in the morning like you usually do. What was going on in Washington that was important enough to drag you out this late?"

Broom yawned, "Something very important, Son; and very interesting. But now is not the best time to discuss it with you. I really do need to get to bed. I will inform you of these new developments tomorrow morning." They both exited the office as Broom switched off the lights. To Hellboy's eyes he looked more excited than tired.

Something in his excitement seemed to give back to him some of the energy he had when he was younger and he seemed to barely need his cane; the cane that he had used ever since his discharge from the BPRD medical facilities after his 1959 treatment for cancer. Hellboy liked seeing this change; he hated when his father started looking old.

They reached the door to Broom's sleeping quarters. As he went to enter Hellboy put a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, Pop, the next time you have to stay out so late why not tell me? I got a little worried when you weren't back by midnight."

Broom smiled in amusement at the idea of Hellboy worrying about him rather than the other way around, "I did want to tell you something, but the powers-that-be asked me to come without telling anyone where I was going. I had no idea that I was going to be there so late. I was glad to notice that you were starting to read Kate's book. Did you find anything interesting in it?"

"Nah, it was dull just like I thought it would be. It's beyond me how anyone so interesting in person can write stuff this boring. The pictures and illustrations were nice, though. Katie must have gone to a lot of trouble to find such nice ones."

Hellboy, who had been relaxed and smiling in an affectionate way, now looked away from Broom, "Father, I know I must be a disappointment to you. I just wish I could find all of this stuff as interesting as you do, but I don't."

Broom grabbed Hellboy's left hand, the one that had just been on his shoulder, and gave it a slight squeeze, "Look at me and try to understand what I am saying: you will never, ever be a disappointment to me; get that silly idea out of your head. Yet, there is more to your job than bashing the dickens out of monsters. Right now you depend on me to do all the necessary research into the creatures we are dealing with. I won't be around forever, you know, and I am concerned what will happen to you when I am gone."

Hellboy suddenly grinned again, "Don't worry about me, Pop. I can take care of myself. And you'll probably live forever, anyway, just to nag me about all my bad habits. Now, go get some sleep before it gets even later." With a wave of his huge right hand Hellboy strode off down the corridor to his own quarters.

_To be continued..._


	7. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 2

**Author's note:** **Here's Part** **Two of my first Abe Sapien story. He's sort of making a slow, dramatic entrance. This continues directly from the end of Part One. It might be better to go back and read that if you haven't already done so. Reminder: the time period here is October of 1978 about a week before Halloween.**

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Two**

Hellboy awoke a little earlier than usual the next morning. He was curious what his father could have discovered the evening before that had him so excited. Trevor Broom was never exactly blasé about his work, but dealing with the paranormal had been something that he had been doing professionally for almost forty years and had been studying for even longer; it took something really unique to get him as keyed up as Hellboy had seen him when he had arrived back from Washington.

He hoped that his father had, indeed, slept in after his late-night excursion. It was possible that he was still eating breakfast even though it was after nine o'clock in the morning. On the few mornings when he arose late, Trevor Broom often ate his breakfast in his office. Hellboy's own breakfast had not arrived yet, so he decided to look his father up and, if he was still eating, have his breakfast sent to the office and join him.

He rushed through showering and dressing in record time, forgoing sanding down his horns. Ten minutes later he arrived at the door to his father's office.

As he pulled open the golden-oak door he could smell food; not just the English teas and pastries that his father usually had for breakfast, but coffee, pancakes, maple syrup, toast, and bacon as well.

Trevor Broom looked up from the table in front of the large fireplace where he was seated drinking a cup of tea. He smiled as Hellboy walked in. "Since I was eating so late this morning, I took the liberty of having your breakfast sent in here as well. We so seldom have a chance to eat together in the morning. I was just about to send for you."

Hellboy poured himself a large mug of black coffee and flopped down into the other chair at the table, which creaked under his weight. "I was kind of thinking the same thing; I thought you might still be eating breakfast." He helped himself to a large stack of the pancakes and bacon and poured syrup all over everything on his plate.

He stuffed a large portion into his mouth and laughed as he realized that he was eating strawberry and banana pancakes. He waved his fork at Broom. "You're still trying to sneak fruit into my diet, aren't you?"

Broom shrugged, pouring himself another cup of tea and buttering a scone, "I just thought that maybe you wouldn't mind something a little different for a change."

Hellboy ate another mouthful of the pancakes topped off with a gulp of his coffee.

"Actually, they taste pretty good." He looked over at his father, who still seemed quite excited about something.

"O.K., Pop, what gives?" Hellboy said as he continued eating, "Why not tell me what happened last night? I'm burning with curiosity. It's not often that you get this charged up about something or stay out until the wee hours of the morning."

Broom ate his scone and washed it down with a few mouthfuls of tea. "This is exactly the reason why I wanted to have breakfast with you this morning. I need for you to grasp the enormity of these events."

He helped himself to a couple of slices of bacon from the huge bowl that had been prepared for Hellboy's breakfast.

"I really should start at the beginning. Last evening, after I had eaten supper, I decided to go to my own room and read in bed before retiring for the night. I had only just arrived there when Mark Baldwin came and said that there was an urgent call from Washington. It was from William Webster, who is now director of the FBI. I realized from Will's tone that he was calling about something significant, but outside of informing me that an odd discovery was made in an abandoned laboratory in the basement of St. Trinian's Hospital he would say nothing more."

Broom reached into his basket of pastries and pulled out a croissant, cut it in half and buttered it. He placed the slices of bacon on it and ate it while he continued speaking.

"I was asked to fly immediately to Washington to consult on this matter. Will asked me to come without speaking to anyone. The only people I spoke to before I left were Mark, who had to assist with the arrangements for getting me to the airport, and the agent who drove me there. When I arrived to the FBI's headquarters in Washington I was informed that I would not be able to make any phone calls. All this secrecy had me intrigued; it made me aware that this was something really big."

Hellboy, who was already eating his way through a second large plateful of pancakes and bacon, interrupted him.

"Jeez, Pop, is this discovery really that big? Sounds to me like they're probably over-reacting. They couldn't even let you make one phone call so I wouldn't sit here wondering what happened to you?"

Broom buttered a crumpet, put some orange marmalade on it, and poured another cup of tea.

"If I had realized that this would be so, I would certainly have told you something before I left. As it is I'm not supposed to be telling you something now either, but I consider you not just as my son, but as my chief field operative; I believe that I can trust you to keep this information to yourself until I am ready to share it with others."

Broom wiped his hands on his napkin and arose from the table. He walked over to his large wooden desk and picked up what looked like a small piece of old parchment. He came back to the table.

"To answer your question, Son: Yes, this discovery really is that big."

He placed the parchment on the table where Hellboy could read it: _Icthyo Sapien, April 14, 1865._

Hellboy, as he reached for his tenth piece of toast, stared up at Broom. "You're saying that someone's found evidence that there'd been some sort of fish-man created in this lab the day Lincoln was shot?"

Broom picked up the parchment and returned it to his desk. He came back to the table and sat down. "I'm glad that you still remember some of the Latin and Greek I taught you in New Mexico when you were four years old and the American history lessons you had in Boston." He poured himself a fresh cup of tea, took a long, slow drink, and then set the cup down.

He leaned forward across the table. "We have more than mere evidence of the existence of some sort of fish-man; we have the fish-man himself in one of the laboratories in the restricted section of our Medical Wing. And he appears to be alive."

Hellboy dropped the piece of toast he had been buttering. "Alive? You're not kidding, are you?"

Broom shook his head. "Abraham appears, however, to be in some sort of state of suspended animation and may have been in this condition since the date that appears on the parchment."

"Abraham?" grunted Hellboy, "You've named this thing already?"

"Hellboy, you know that I don't like fellow beings referred to as 'things'."

Broom seldom called Hellboy by the name that he had always regretted bestowing on him unless he was really annoyed with him. Hellboy looked up from the plate of bacon and toast that he was eating from. "Sorry, Father."

"It was the plumbers who discovered him in the hospital basement that christened him in honor of President Lincoln. Some of our scientists are performing tests right now to see what exactly is Abraham's nature and if he can be revived into a state of conscious awareness."

Hellboy dropped the toast and bacon sandwich he had been eating back on to his plate, having suddenly lost his appetite.

"Tests," he growled, "I remember the Bureau's tests. Bastard things. I hope that you're not planning on putting Abe through that crap."

Broom sighed, "Son, sometimes these tests are necessary."

Hellboy stood up from the table. "Well, when do I get to see the new guy?"

Broom stood up as well, "Right now if you want."

_To be continued..._


	8. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 3

**Author's note:** Please read Parts One and Two if you haven't already done so.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Three**

****

Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense  
Newark, New Jersey

A Laboratory in the Restricted Section of the Medical Wing  
October 1978

Hellboy, fascinated, leaned forward staring intently through the double-thick pane of glass at the slender, delicate figure floating in the tank of water. Hellboy's tail, protruding from the back of the tan-colored coat he was now wearing, gently waved back and forth just as if he were a curious cat.

The figure inside, who looked as much like a man as a fish, had soft-looking skin of dolphin gray, streaked with dark blue or black patterns. There were fins on the backs of his shoulders, down his middle spine, and on the backs of his legs. The fingers of his hands, the toes of his feet, and his underarms were webbed. His body was completely hairless and someone had dressed him in a pair of skin-fitting black spandex shorts.

On either side of the upper part of his neck were gills; the rhythmical fluttering of these gills was the only appearance of life. His eyes were closed as if he was merely asleep and ready to wake at any minute. But he had been in a tank in that abandoned laboratory for over one hundred years and Hellboy wondered if his eyes had ever been opened; wondered what color these eyes were.

Hellboy was especially moved by the grace and beauty of this being they all were starting to think of as Abe Sapien. He then caught his own reflection in the front of the glass tank and suddenly turned away.

Graceful and beautiful he himself was not; at least not in his own eyes. In Trevor Broom's eyes this large red being he had been raising as his son for over thirty years had a physical charm all of his own, but Hellboy seldom recognized this in himself.

There were two scientists, one older than the other, monitoring several machines that were attached with wires and electrodes to this strange new denizen of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. They had their heads together and were muttering vehemently about something. The older scientist, Dr. Roddel, turned toward Trevor Broom who had been looking over some reports on the progress they had been making.

"Professor, we are wasting our time here. Whatever life there still is in this creature is vestigial only. It appears to be brain-dead and no amount of brain or adrenal stimulation is making one bit of difference. The route that I would recommend for further study of this creature is dissection. I believe that this is the only way to obtain useful information. This creature obviously cannot be revived."

Hellboy noticed that his father had scowled at the scientist's use of the words 'it' and 'creature' to refer to Abe Sapien. The scientist himself seemed oblivious to Broom's displeasure. Before Broom could respond to this statement, Hellboy strode over to where Dr. Roddel and his younger colleague, Dr. Cobb, were standing.

"You know they wanted to dissect me when I was around five years old. And I wasn't even brain-dead. Luckily for me, Father put a stop to that idea real quick. Have you tried good, old-fashioned electricity yet? It always works in those old horror movies when the mad scientist wants to bring the monster to life. And I'm here to protect you if Abe turns out to be some big, bad monster."

The younger scientist, Dr. Cobb, spoke up, "I just now suggested electrical stimulation to Dr. Roddel, but he rejected the idea as just more time wasting. He said that we would find out more through scalpels and microscopes."

Trevor Broom turned toward Dr. Roddel, "Sir, it is my expectation that you will explore every route, no matter how seemingly mundane or far-fetched, in order to revive Abe. Any scientific findings are secondary to my main priority of reviving him to conscious life. I expect your fullest cooperation in this matter. If I find that you have refused to explore every route to its complete potential, or if you ever again refer to Abe using words that suggest that _he_ is some less-than-human creature, I will terminate your employment with my Bureau."

He turned toward Hellboy, who was grinning at the scientist's discomfort, and gestured for him to follow him out of the laboratory. Right before he exited, Broom turned back. "I expect a full report to be kept of every effort and every rejected suggestion. Absolutely no physically invasive procedures are to be attempted without my prior approval. Contact me immediately when Abe is awakened to consciousness."

Not waiting for a reply, Broom walked out. Hellboy followed right behind.

_This update was kind of short, but this is a good place to break off. Any inaccuracies in my description of Abe are more the result of combining aspects of the 'comicverse Abe'__ to a movieverse story than deficiencies of my sometimes-faulty memory. More to come..._


	9. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 4

**Author's note:** I forgot to mention in Part Three that the characters of Dr. Roddel and Dr. Cobb are not original to me, but derive from the Mignola comic Abe Sapien vs. Science. In that comic their attempts to revive Abe take place in March of 1979, long after his discovery in 1978. I usually jumble a lot of different elements from Mignola's original comics into what are essentially movieverse stories. Therefore, what I come up with is a somewhat alternative universe with elements of both. In what I am writing here all the revival attempts and subsequent testing that Abe goes through take place within about a week of his 1978 discovery.

What is written below may not make sense if you haven't read the previous parts.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Four**

The plumbers that had broken through a wall in the basement of St. Trinian's Hospital in Washington had been attempting to track the source of a strange oozing of water; they had no idea that they were going to discover an abandoned secret laboratory.

Or that this laboratory would contain some kind of half fish-half man still alive after over a century of confinement in an oddly shaped tank; this tank had recently sprung a small leak and was probably the source of the water the plumbers had been tracking. Next to this tank was another similar tank that was broken open and empty.

The plumbers who found this fish-man dubbed him as Abraham Sapien in honor of President Lincoln. He was now located in a laboratory at the BPRD headquarters in Newark, New Jersey where Doctors Roddel and Cobb continued trying to bring this fish-man out of the state of suspended animation he had been in since the date of Lincoln's assassination in 1865.

Unlike Dr. Roddel, Dr. Cobb found this odd fish-man strangely compelling. Full body scans had shown that Abe had two separate respiratory systems: the gills that allowed him to breathe in water and fully-developed lungs that Dr. Cobb suspected would allow him to breathe outside of water, but he wondered if Abe had ever used these lungs.

He also wondered if Abe had ever been conscious, but had slipped into some kind of hibernation over the years; or had he always been unconscious? Dr. Cobb desperately wanted to revive this uniquely beautiful being.

Dr. Roddel had some other options he wanted to try first, before turning to electrical stimulation, of which they did not really know how much would be too much. However, they finally turned to good, old-fashioned electrical stimulation, but with little success. At one point they had increased the gain so much that the lights in the BPRD laboratory where they were located dimmed considerably.

Dr. Roddel frowned and collapsed wearily into a chair.

"Dr. Cobb, we should give this up before we burn out all of our equipment or trip all the circuit breakers in this laboratory. Thank God, we are on a separate system from the rest of the Medical Wing."

Dr. Cobb appeared not to be listening to his older colleague. He was reading over some printouts related to their last attempt with electrical stimulation, finally noting the first indications of possible changes in Abe's physiological state.

He went over to the laboratory holding tank where Abe Sapien had been floating, unconscious, for the last several days and looked closely at him. The only signs of life that any had ever seen in Abe since he had been discovered were the movements of his gills, indicating some kind of respiration, and the very slow beating of his heart.

But these slightly improved results from the latest attempt at revival through electrical stimulation seemed to indicate that a further attempt would not be unwarranted.

Dr. Cobb turned back to Dr. Roddel. "I want to try just one more time. Let's try pushing the gain as high as the equipment will allow us. As far as I'm concerned, I'm damned if I care what we burn out, even if we blow out every fuse in this laboratory. We've got enough emergency generators to handle whatever outages may occur."

Dr. Roddel shook his head in exasperation. "Do what you please. I'm sure it won't work and we'll certainly lose a lot of very valuable equipment in the process; but I suppose if we end up blowing up half the Medical Wing it will prove to Broom, and that giant red wind-bag he calls his son, that we really did try everything we could."

Dr. Cobb ignored his colleague's grumbling as they reset all of the electrical stimulation equipment to their highest settings. Maybe Dr. Roddel was correct; maybe all they would accomplish was burning out a lot of very expensive equipment.

But Dr. Cobb thought that the chance they might be able to bring Abe Sapien to consciousness was worth the possible destruction of a bunch of machines.

Ten minutes later the laboratory where Abe was located was filled with the smoke and other acrid fumes of burnt out electrical wiring. The emergency generators had come online, providing a certain amount of lighting to the laboratory and power to the equipment that was still functional.

After they had used extinguishers to put out a number of small electrical fires that had occurred when the equipment burned out, Dr. Roddel had stalked out of the laboratory leaving Dr. Cobb behind to deal with the results of their effort.

Dr. Cobb walked sadly over to the now dimly lit tank and looked at Abe floating there, appearing more still than ever. He wondered if this last attempt, rather than reviving Abe, had broken off what life had been left in him.

He blinked back a few tears and started to move away, planning to write up the report on this last failed attempt, but he moved back to look in the tank again. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he could swear he saw Abe move in a way that was very different from the bobbing around that just came from him floating free in the tank.

Suddenly Abe's eyes flew open; they were the most startling shade of blue that Dr. Cobb had ever seen, almond shaped and larger than he had expected.

Abe blinked rapidly a few times as he stared out at Dr. Cobb who had moved even closer to the glass front of the tank.

Raising a hand in fear Abe tried to throw himself back. But the wires that still connected him to the now useless equipment prevented him from moving very far.

Abe started to thrash about, but it became obvious that he stopped when he realized he was causing himself pain. He looked around in confusion as if trying to figure out where he was located.

Dr. Cobb, who until that moment had hardly even breathed, suddenly ran to the telephone in the laboratory, but it was out of service due to the power surges earlier. He then ran out to find another telephone to place a call to Professor Broom.

_More to come..._


	10. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 5

**Author's notes:** And so the saga of Abe Sapien goes on. Some of what is below derives from the comic B.P.R.D.: Hollow Earth. The B.P.R.D. series is a spin-off series from Hellboy where Abe Sapien is one of the main characters. Hellboy, so far, is not a character in this series, but does appear at times in the reminiscences of those who had worked and lived with him in the past. The rest of what is written below will be mostly my own. If you want to know more about the FBI liaison 'Lee' read my stories Father's Day Gifts and A Tale of 'Demon' Rights.

It would be good to read parts One through Four before reading this. The year is still 1978.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Five**

Hellboy should have awoken that morning in a mood of happy excitement. After all, it was finally Halloween, and his father had told him he would be permitted to go out somewhere for the evening with the group of agents who were his closest friends among his BPRD colleagues.

Well, Hellboy was excited when he woke up, but happy he was not. In fact, he was downright annoyed, both with Trevor Broom and with the other scientists who were continuing the research on the now conscious fish-man, Abe Sapien.

He threw on his clothes, not even bothering to shower or wait for breakfast, and made his way to his father's office. Upon determining that his father was not in, he made his way to the restricted section of the BPRD Medical Wing where Abe was still located.

Abe was not in the same laboratory where he had finally been successfully revived, but in a second facility. The first laboratory was still under repair after most of its electrical wiring and a good percentage of its equipment had burned out in that last desperate attempt to revive Abe using electrical stimulation.

Hellboy had no problem entering the Medical Wing, but the security guard outside of the restricted section stopped him.

"Sorry, H.B., but you don't have authorization to enter there except in the company of Professor Broom. He's already in there, but asked that he and the other scientists not be interrupted. I'll tell him you were here when he comes back out."

This security guard was a big man, but not anywhere as big as Hellboy, who was now glaring at him and making a fist with his over-sized stone-like right hand.

"And who's going to stop me from going in there? You? Like to see you try."

Hellboy shoved open the door that separated the corridor of the restricted section from the main corridor of the Medical Wing, setting off several alarms in the process. Trevor Broom came out of the laboratory to see what the disturbance was.

Hellboy barely even acknowledged his presence, but shoved past him and entered into the laboratory with a startled Professor Broom trailing behind him.

Hellboy came to a halt just after having entered and looked at Abe Sapien. He was located in a larger, more complex tank than the first one he had been in. It was round and was raised high up off the ground, with spiral steps leading to a catwalk alongside it.

Abe was still connected by wires to machines and scanners. But now his dark blue eyes were wide open, unlike the first time Hellboy had seen him; there was a look of confusion and disorientation in these eyes. Hellboy also thought he could see fright in them.

Hellboy spoke to Trevor Broom without turning to look at him, "It's just not right. You've had him cooped up in that stupid tank for days and days. You've already figured out that he can breathe without being in water. Let him out of there and stop treating him like some kind of damned prisoner."

Broom placed a hand on Hellboy's shoulder, "Son, these tests are very delicate and should not be interrupted. Believe me, I would not be allowing this if I did not think it was very important. Just a few more tests and we should be finished."

Hellboy pulled away from Broom's touch, turning and addressing him directly for the first time since entering the laboratory.

"Yeah, but it's always just a few more tests. Don't you remember how many tests and more tests the BPRD put me through? At least they didn't keep me trapped in a tank for days on end. You finally insisted they put a stop to it when I was five years old."

Hellboy turned away from Broom, walked over to the spiral metal steps and climbed up. Dr. Roddel scowled, calling Hellboy a "damned blow-hard" under his breath. But he did nothing to stop him. Trevor Broom and Dr. Cobb both looked more sheepish than angry as they watched Hellboy climb on to the catwalk next to the tank.

Rather than cowering away as he had been doing when Broom or the other two scientists climbed up there, Abe floated toward Hellboy and reached a hand out. Hellboy placed his left hand on the rounded glass of the tank and smiled as Abe attempted to touch it.

The look of fear in Abe's eyes changed to a look of wonderment. Hellboy thought Abe almost looked as if he smiled. They both looked at each other for a long time.

Hellboy then reached out, wrapping both of his arms around the tank, and started to tug it loose from its foundations.

Trevor Broom stepped further into the laboratory. "What do you think you are doing? My boy, come down from there and let Dr. Roddel and Dr. Cobb do their work."

Hellboy shook his head. "These damn scientists never know when enough is enough. Well, I'm saying it's enough."

With a final grunt he tore the tank partially free from its moorings, tipping it toward himself, spilling a lot of water in the process. He then reached into the tank with his left hand, grabbing Abe by the arm above his wrist.

Rather than being frightened, Abe helped by grabbing on to Hellboy's arm and allowing him to haul Abe out of the tank onto the catwalk next to him. Abe was a little unsteady on his feet, so Hellboy wrapped his left arm around his shoulders to help him stand.

Hellboy, completely ignoring Trevor Broom and the two other scientists, helped Abe to walk down the spiral steps, now wet with water from the broken tank. He then led Abe toward the doorway, still walking with his left arm around Abe's shoulders.

As they went Hellboy spoke, "You know, Abe, I never ate breakfast this morning and I'm just starved. I bet there's a ham sandwich in the Medical Wing staff kitchen with my name written all over it. And I'll bet you're hungry for something more than that protein crap they've been feeding you. How's about we go get something to eat?"

Abe looked into Hellboy's smiling face and nodded his agreement. The two then walked out, dripping water as they went, leaving three flabbergasted scientists behind.

When he had regained his composure, Trevor Broom turned toward Dr. Cobb and said in a somewhat shaky voice, "My God, I think Abe understands English."

* * *

In the early afternoon of that same day, 'Lee', the FBI liaison arrived and called Trevor Broom into his office. He had known both Broom and Hellboy since the very beginning in 1944 and was attached to both of them with a strong bond of affection.

However, he now had to deal with the reports of damage to equipment and complaints that Hellboy had threatened BPRD employees.

Broom sat down wearily into the proffered chair. "Lee, no one knows better than you how impetuous my son can be and that he has a terrible temper. But he has never threatened or harmed anyone except those monsters and demons we have sent him out to destroy. I will, of course, make good the money needed to repair that tank."

Lee sat down behind his desk. "Look, Trevor, you've got to keep better control of him. You know there are those in the federal government and the FBI who would be just as happy to be rid of the both of you. I just can't get them to see the usefulness of supporting an organization that hunts 'spooks'."

He shook his head, "You are lucky that President Carter and Will Webster, the new head of the FBI, like you so well. But you've got some really powerful enemies in Washington, so I'm warning you that you need to be more careful. It wouldn't be that easy to take him to live with you in Brooklyn or support him on that salary you make from NYU."

He sighed, "I've got worse news, I'm afraid. The FBI is adamant that he be disciplined for what happened this morning, so I'm afraid you letting the big guy out for a Halloween excursion this evening is out of the question."

Broom looked down and then looked back up at Lee. "Damn, he's been looking forward to this for a long time. Isn't there something I can do to change the FBI's mind?"

Lee suddenly smiled and got up to whisper something in Broom's ear. Broom looked up at Lee standing over him. "Do you really think that will work?"

Lee walked over to the door to his office and opened it, indicating that the meeting was over. "I'll make sure that it works, Trevor. But you make sure that you have a long heart-to-heart with him later. I'm serious about what I said before."

When Hellboy had been called into Trevor Broom's office just before suppertime he had been expecting some sort of chastisement for his behavior in the morning, but not the cancellation of this long awaited 'night out with the guys'. To say that Hellboy was infuriated was to put it mildly.

"You have got to be kidding," he shouted, lashing his tail and pacing around the office.

"You know how long I've been waiting and waiting to be let out of this place! I don't care what you say; the Bureau is nothing more than a fancy prison and I'm really nothing more than a prisoner. I hate this place, I hate my job, but most of all I hate you. You're nothing but a goddamned bastard! I'm sorry that I tried to be nice to old fish-face. See what trying to be nice gets you?"

With that, Hellboy slammed out of Broom's office and went back to his own room to lie on his bed and sulk. When his supper arrived about a half hour later Hellboy took a hold of the cart and unceremoniously dumped everything, chili and all, into the hallway.

_More to come…_


	11. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 6

**Author's note:** This takes place directly after the end of Part Five and it's a really long part, too. Please read the other five parts before this one, or it won't make much sense.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Six**

It was going on about eight o'clock at night when the siren in Hellboy's room went off and the words 'CODE RED… CODE RED…CODE RED…' flashed across a screen.

_"Damn,"_ Hellboy thought to himself,_ "They sure as hell won't let me out to play, but when there's some stupid monster… "_ He didn't complete the thought, but just continued lying on the bed staring at the ceiling.

There came a knock at the door. Hellboy assuming this was his father rolled over on his bed and faced the wall. Eventually the person who had knocked pulled open the heavy metal door and entered.

"Well, Hellboy, what are you going to do? Pull the 'Achilles in his tent' routine? Or are you going to come?" It was Lee, the FBI liaison.

Hellboy rolled over and sat up. Lee sat down on the bed next to him.

"Well, I may as well go," grunted Hellboy, "It's the only way I ever get out of here."

He bent over and pulled on his boots, laced them up and tied them. It always amazed Lee how he managed to do that basically using his left hand with only just a little assistance from his unwieldy-sized right hand.

"What's the problem this time?" he asked while he finished lacing and tying the boots.

Lee got up from the bed, "Seems there's some sort of poltergeist entity running around the stacks of the main research library of the New York Public Library. Right now it appears to be not doing much more than shoving books off shelves. But the disturbances have been increasing in frequency and a security guard was knocked on the head pretty hard by quite a large tome."

Hellboy stood up, retrieved his belt from a hook on the wall and strapped it on. He shrugged into his large coat and turned to Lee.

"Well, let's go. Sounds like an appropriate case for Halloween. Should be a piece of cake and maybe I'll get back in time to catch some horror movie on late night TV. That's about the only entertainment I get around here."

They made their way up to the garage that held the black unmarked sedans and garbage trucks that were their typical vehicles of transport. The FBI kept promising Hellboy that they would give the Bureau a specially-designed truck that would include permanently installed equipment and more easily accommodate his size, but they had yet to do that.

Hellboy had been almost seven feet tall since he was fifteen years old, but what he had not gained in height over the decades he had certainly gained in sheer bulk and he found it cumbersome cramming himself into the back of one of these trucks along with the equipment and rolling munitions cases that had to be placed in the truck along with him.

Somehow, this evening, everything seemed more annoying than usual. He wearily climbed into the back of the truck and was somewhat surprised when Lee climbed in with him. Hellboy craned his head back out the rear entrance of the truck.

"Pop's not coming this time?" He said looking around.

"No, he's not feeling very well this evening," Lee said, handing Hellboy a folder, "This really should be pretty easy to take care of. I suspect that this entity is more disgruntled than anything else. Your father already has done some research and this folder contains everything you need to know." They both sat on a bench along one side of the truck.

The agent who was to drive Hellboy's truck got into the front cab and pushed a button that raised the rear doors. They pulled out of the garage and, along with two of the black sedans, drove out the main entrance to the property heading for the highways that would lead from Newark into Manhattan.

Hellboy didn't say anything for a while, but after about fifteen minutes he turned to Lee.

"I know that I shouldn't have been so hard on Pop, but boy was I pissed. I didn't really think that what I had done earlier was all that bad."

"Neither did he, Hellboy," Lee said, shifting his weight on the uncomfortable bench he was sitting on. "This cancellation of your Halloween night out was not his idea. Frankly, there are some in the FBI that are out to jump all over him the minute you do anything the least little bit off the wall. And he would never be able to just quit like he did when you were five years old. For one thing, he just doesn't have the money to live on his own with you and for another thing, regardless of him being 'officially' your adoptive father, I doubt the feds would let him just up and take off with you."

Hellboy, who had been looking down at the floor of the truck while Lee had been speaking, looked up at him and nodded his head.

Lee shifted on the bench again. "Jesus, no wonder you find this damn truck so uncomfortable. I'll try to shove through another request for a larger truck."

He stood up, stretched and then sat down on the bench again a little closer to where Hellboy was scrunched up.

"Look, Hellboy, if Trevor ever quit or, heaven forbid, got fired he would never be able to keep custody of you. And could you imagine him trying to sue the government over custody rights? What court would even accept a case like this?"

He reached out and touched Hellboy's shoulder. "Every time certain people in the FBI get upset with you, he gets the brunt of it. You've got to start thinking more about the consequences of your actions than you have been. I've been watching you grow and change over the years and most of these changes have been good ones. I'm certainly proud of how well you are growing up, but you still have a long way to go. You really must learn to be more responsible for how you act. What you wanted to accomplish this morning was really quite a laudable thing. But your father is not an unreasonable man and I feel that if you had tried to approach him in a different way, things would have turned out very differently, both for you and him."

Hellboy sighed and looked down at his boots. "When I get angry I don't think, I just do. And I always end up saying things I wish I had never said. But, you know, Lee, this time I did try to talk to Father earlier in the week. He was just too darn busy fooling around with that fish guy to listen to what I had to say. I just couldn't take seeing that poor guy stuck in that damn tank for one more minute, even if it did cost me my Halloween party."

Just as he was finished speaking the garbage truck and the two black sedans pulled onto Fifth Avenue in Manhattan and pulled up in front of the beautiful building that was the main library for the New York Public Library.

Lee pulled out some sort of two-way radio and spoke to the driver of the truck. The truck and the two cars then pulled around to a rear, employee-only entrance to the building. The rear doors of the truck were let down and Lee exited, indicating to Hellboy to stay in the truck. Lee then went to the entrance and rang a bell. He was let in, was there for several minutes, and then came back out. He climbed back into the truck, the rear doors were raised again and the truck and the two sedans pulled away.

"Well, that takes care of this part of the evening," Lee said, "I told you that this job would be a real easy one. That folder I gave you contains all the details of what happened in there when you fought that poltergeist and, of course, the Bureau will expect a full typed report of this job sometime tomorrow. Especially the reason why it took you until two in the morning to banish that noisy ghost. The director of the library's a friend of mine and he's willing to go along with this."

Hellboy just stared at Lee, getting the distinct impression that his evening was going to be very different than he had been expecting after he stormed out of his father's office. Eventually the vehicles pulled into a street that was at the rear entrance of a very exclusive bar and restaurant in Manhattan.

"Your father really meant this all to be a kind of surprise. He went to a lot of trouble and money to rent out this restaurant for a special Halloween party for you and your buddies. I wasn't about to see all that money go down the drain because a few idiots in the FBI think you needed to be taught a lesson. And both Trevor and I do think you deserve a night out. Just remember that as far as I or your father are concerned you're not attending a party, you're fighting a poltergeist in the library."

The rear doors to the truck were let down again and Lee climbed out and beckoned for Hellboy to do the same.

"Now, go have some fun Cinderella. Don't lose that folder and make sure you destroy it after you write up that report on the poltergeist infested library."

Hellboy stuffed the folder into one of the larger pockets of his coat. He started to walk into the rear entrance of the restaurant. He stopped and walked back.

"Lee, I… I…" Hellboy stopped not knowing what exactly to say.

Lee waved a hand, "Go on in. Go have some fun; get drunk and dance the night away with some pretty girl."

Hellboy grinned, "Go on, yourself. Who'd dance with me, anyway? The getting drunk part should be easy, though."

With that Hellboy turned and walked into the restaurant. There were a lot more people there than he had expected. Most were dressed in some costume or another.

Along with his current colleagues, there were some older retired and semi-retired agents, including Frank Dixon who Hellboy had served with in Argentina in the mid-fifties. There was the now retired senator who had been so inimical to Hellboy when he had been five years old and his son, Steven, a former FBI agent whose life Hellboy had saved in Argentina. The senator, who was close to 80 years old at this point in time, now counted Hellboy and Trevor Broom among his most treasured friends. His son Steven, who always claimed that meeting Hellboy was the one thing that really focused his direction in life, had eventually left the FBI to work in civil rights organizations.

Hellboy was stunned at the size and scope of this affair. There were even the nurses, some now retired, who had befriended Hellboy when his father had been hospitalized for so long in 1959 for cancer. Before he could even speak he was surrounded by a large group of well-wishers. One woman forced herself through the crowd and dragged Hellboy off to the dance floor. It took him a few seconds to recognize Kate Corrigan under the rather gaudy, but authentic, Romanian costume she had on. Her face was beautifully made up and she had on a shoulder-length, curly black wig.

Hellboy really did end up having the time of his life; he did get quite drunk and if he didn't dance all night long with Kate, it was because of trying to play pool and darts with his buddies (he wasn't really very good) or dancing with some of the other women (he was better at dancing than pool or darts).

The waiters and waitresses had been paid a lot of extra money by Trevor Broom not to inquire too closely into the large guy in the funny red costume. They were doing an excellent job of keeping everyone entertained. At one point Hellboy finally got Kate to a table in a corner away from everyone where they could speak together quietly.

Even though they both had been enjoying themselves immensely, each knew that the other was troubled about something. He looked closer at her face as she drank from her pint of beer and thought that he could see the shadow of a bruise under the bright makeup on her left cheek.

He reached out with his left hand, cupping her chin in his hand, and pulled her face closer to his. She tried to turn away, but he was gently insistent that she let him look.

"Hey, Katie, who the hell slapped you? It wasn't that David was it? I never really much liked what you told me about him."

Kate smiled a lop-sided, half rueful grin. "Let's just say that David and I aren't seeing each other any more."

Hellboy dropped his hand from Kate's chin. But then he leaned in, drew her closer, and gently kissed the bruised cheek.

"Sweetie, how could anyone want to hurt you? You're one of the best."

She shrugged, "David's not a bad sort really. He just couldn't take the pressure of having a girlfriend with a mind of her own. We had a big fight because he wanted me to give everything up to marry him and be a stay-at-home mom. I couldn't sacrifice my career for any man. That's one reason why these relationships of mine never last very long."

"Still, that's no reason to hit you," growled Hellboy, "If I had known…"

"That's one reason why I didn't want to tell you," Kate looked up into Hellboy's face and smiled, "But don't worry about me, I can take care of myself. He probably wasn't able to sit down again for week after he slapped me. I bet he'll never hit a poor, defenseless woman again. At least not one who was taught by a master how to defend herself."

Kate unexpectedly leaned over, threw her arms around Hellboy's neck and kissed his cheek. He smiled at her, remembering the first time she had done that when she had been eight years old and he fourteen, back when they first met in 1959.

"What was that for?" he whispered in her ear.

"Because I think you're real nice." Kate then took Hellboy's face in her hands and kissed him long and hard directly on the mouth. Now, this wasn't exactly the first time that they had ever kissed in recent years, but Hellboy realized that this time was very different.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but realized that he liked it. When Kate pulled away from the kiss, Hellboy wrapped his left arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Kate laid her head on his chest and they didn't speak for a long time.

It was Kate who first broke the silence. "I think I needed that. I needed to be kissed, to be held by someone who doesn't want me to be something I'm not; who doesn't want more from me than I can give; who isn't going to hurt me."

Hellboy bent down his head and kissed her again, holding her even closer.

"You know I would never, ever do anything to hurt you," he said after they had finished this second, even longer kiss.

Kate nodded. "But that's what's so great about you, Hellboy. No matter how big and scary-looking you are, no matter how huge your temper tantrums, you wouldn't really even hurt a damn fly unless it was some demonic monster threatening the rest of us."

She slid from his lap back into her own seat at the table. "And don't worry, I'll never ask more from you than you can give either. But I wouldn't mind a little romance from you once in a while; I'm sure that that would be a real adventure. However, there's one thing that I know: you've got a heart the size of the Atlantic Ocean; someday you will really fall in love with someone and when you do you will fall hard."

Hellboy laughed and shook his head, "Things are different with you Kate because you've known me for so long, but what girl would really want a guy like me?"

Kate patted his cheek, "Someday the right girl will come along and I think you'll both be surprised at the intensity of your feelings for each other. That will be the time for me to back off and go back to being your 'little sister'."

She reached into the pocket of the colorful skirt she was wearing and fetched out a deck of Tarot cards and started to shuffle them. "It's your turn now, big guy. Madame Kate, the gypsy fortune-teller, already senses that something is bothering you. How's about telling her your problems?"

Hellboy got up from the table and fetched a couple more pints of beer. When he returned he took a long drink from his before speaking.

"Jeez, I can't hide anything from you, can I Kate? Pop and I had a really bad dust-up earlier, but I can't tell you what it was about. But, like always, it was mostly my own fault and ended up with me saying things I never should have said. I liked what you said earlier about me not even hurting a fly. I wish that could be true, but it's not. And most of the time who I end up hurting when I fly off on these tantrums of mine is poor Father."

He took another drink of his beer. "In a way, I'll never be sorry for what I did that caused so much trouble. But all I really ended up accomplishing was getting Pop in trouble with the FBI. Again. No one knows better than you do just what Father means to me, but there are times when I can't get what he sees in me that's worth loving so much. That's worth spending half his savings on a party like this; a party that I don't even deserve."

Kate didn't say anything to all of this. Rather she dealt out three cards from the deck that she had been shuffling: Ace of Pentacles, Six of Pentacles, Temperance.

"Interesting cards," she muttered, "One would think that your essential nature would be described by the Ace of Wands, which represents the element of Fire, rather than Ace of Pentacles, which is Earth. But, then again, one of your essential attributes is that you are fireproof. Earth doesn't exactly burn easily. But Earth is also a very grounded and centered type of energy and maybe you need to seek more of that in your life."

"Now the Six of Pentacles: I think that would represent you helping and protecting others, but you notice that in this picture here the person who is doing the helping is almost completely covered by a huge red robe. In general, you must be hidden from those very people whom you are helping. They cannot know who you really are. And not only are you hidden from them, you are also somewhat hidden from yourself."

"However, in the card Temperance is where you find the Fire that is also an essential part of your nature. One of the functions of Temperance is wrath, but if you are well tempered and centered in yourself we are speaking of justified wrath and not the more unjustified anger of a temper tantrum. But this card, I believe, also tells me what your father really sees in you that is worth loving so much: he sees something very special that is hidden from most others, even from you yourself. And I think it interesting that the figure in this card represents the Archangel Michael."

Hellboy laughed at this. "I've been looking for years at that huge statue Pop has in his office of Saint Michael slaying Satan as the dragon. You really think he sees that in me?"

Kate looked up from her perusal of the cards, "I'm being really serious, Hellboy."

He laughed even harder. "Jeez, Kate, I think we're both drunk; that's what I think."

Just as he was speaking, Martha Wilson walked up to them. She had been the head nurse in the BPRD medical facility in Boston where Trevor Broom and Kate's own father had both been hospitalized in 1959.

"I'm not as young as I once was, H.B., and I can't stay much longer. But I do believe you owe me another dance before I take off."

She took Hellboy by the arm and led him off to the dance floor.

"Little Katie's certainly growed up to be a pretty one, hasn't she?" she said as they started dancing together, "You two seemed pretty cozy over there in that corner all by yourselves, but we can't let Kate Corrigan monopolize you all night, can we?"

Martha swore that Hellboy would have been blushing, if his skin color weren't already so red to begin with. "How many people do you think saw us, Marty?"

She laughed, "I would say just about everyone. You two weren't exactly that discreet. How long has this been going on, anyway? Should we be planning a wedding soon?"

Hellboy leaned in and pecked Martha on the cheek. "Now, Marty, you know that you've always been my only girl, right? Katie and me, we're still just friends, real good friends you understand, but not really much more than that. It's just that we both needed something from each other tonight and the kinds of things that you need when you're twenty-eight and thirty-four are a bit different from when you're eight and fourteen."

"Well, you two looked real cute together is all I have to say." Martha had known Hellboy during one of the hardest years of his life. She also noticed that he was troubled about something despite his obvious enjoyment of the party. "How's your father doing? I kind of expected to see him here tonight. I hope all is well with him."

Hellboy continued to dance in silence for a while. "I suppose he probably would have been here tonight, and Lee as well, if everything had gone as Pop had planned," he finally said, "But things didn't go as he had planned and it's mostly my fault that things didn't work out. But if you're worried about his health, that seems to be pretty good right now. His primary problem just seems to be me."

As the dance came to an end Martha patted Hellboy's shoulder, "As long as I've know you two, you have always managed to work out your difficulties. I'm sure that this time won't be any different."

"I'm sure you're right, Marty," he said, "But I owe him a really big apology, and knowing that he will forgive me like he always does just makes it that much harder."

A few minutes later Hellboy helped Martha on with her coat. "Marty, I can't thank you enough for coming all this way just for me. I just wish Father could have been here. He would have loved to have seen you again."

Martha kissed him on the cheek, "Look, H.B., when you decide to worry about your father you always worry way too much. It's not often that your father gets to give you a party like this. Stop worrying about what happened and enjoy the rest of it."

As Hellboy had always found Martha's advice to him in the past to be good advice, he did just that. He really threw himself into the party for the rest of the night and enjoyed himself like he had almost never had in his life before.

It was almost too soon by the time 2:00am rolled around and it was time for him to leave, having finally banished the 'disgruntled poltergeist' from the library. He patted his coat pocket to make sure that he still had the folder of 'research' his father had put together.

Before he left he went and shook the hands of all the waiters and kissed the hands of all the waitresses. One waitress giggled, "Are you as sexy out of that interesting costume as you are in it, big guy?"

Hellboy kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, "I can certainly promise you that."

He then went and said his farewells to the guests who were still there, giving Kate a final huge kiss before going out the rear entrance to the waiting garbage truck and sedans.

Luckily for Hellboy, the men who were driving the vehicles, and who had also attended the party, had drunk a lot less than he had. They managed to make it back to Newark in one piece. It was just past 3:00am when they rolled in at the main entrance to the Bureau.

Hellboy had to grin. The only time he ever arrived 'home' this late was after an especially arduous job, or after some long international flight, also because of some job. The 'job' that he had gone on this past evening had been the most fun he had ever had in his life and he wished that all of his jobs could be this much fun.

He still dreaded having to face his father the next morning, but right now he was too happy to worry much about that. As he passed by the door to his father's office on his way to his room, he noticed that there still seemed to be a light on inside.

He was curious who could still be using the office this late. He pushed the door open and looked in. He saw Trevor Broom sitting slumped down in his chair, having fallen asleep still holding the book he had been reading.

With a sudden tightening of his chest, Hellboy remembered what the date now was: it was November 1st, the day after Halloween.

For some reason, when Hellboy had been younger, he used to have terrible nightmares related to this particular date. They had become especially frequent when his father had been so ill in 1959. He never could recall details of these dreams; he just remembered that on November 1st something bad was to happen.

Why entering his father's office on November 1st and seeing him sitting so still brought these terrible dreams to mind he was not sure. All he knew was that he was frightened and wanted his father to wake up and look at him, to see that he was there with him.

He knelt by his sleeping father's chair and looked into his face. He then gently gathered Trevor Broom into his arms and held him close.

"Father," he whispered, "It's me. I'm here. I've come back."

To his ever-lasting relief, Trevor Broom stirred and, opening his eyes, blinked up at him in surprise. "Son? I must have fallen asleep here. What time is it?"

Hellboy didn't answer him; he just held him closer and started to cry.

"Father, I'm sorry, so very sorry. I never meant it; I never meant any of it. How could I have called you a bastard? How could I?" Hellboy cried even harder.

Trevor Broom was somewhat startled by the vehemence of these emotions. Also, he was by now being hugged very tightly by the somewhat distraught Hellboy, who was no longer paying enough attention to what he was doing with that huge right hand of his.

"Son, it's not quite necessary to strangle me to show me how sorry you are," Broom finally managed to gasp out, "Frankly, it's not the worst thing in the world to call your father a bastard. I did it once myself when I was quite young and my own father had said something I believed unforgivable to my mother."

At Broom's rare hint at whatever troubles had cut off his relationship with his own parents at such a young age, Hellboy finally let go of his strangle-hold of him and sat down on the floor next to his father's chair.

"I'm not sure that I really didn't deserve to be called a bastard," Broom continued, "When you were small I allowed those tests on you to go on too long; I really do believe that. And here I was stupidly doing the same thing with poor Abe. I just allow myself to get too wrapped up in my research at times. It's good sometimes for someone to pull you up short like that and make you take notice of your own actions."

Hellboy shook his head, "Lee's right, Father, I should have handled this whole thing differently. I was frustrated and I don't deal well with that. But when I got really angry it didn't have anything to do with Abe. I was furious that you were going to allow the FBI to cancel my night out. Whatever you deserve or don't deserve, I've got no right calling you names because of something like that. Especially, when what happened was mostly my own fault anyway."

Broom looked at Hellboy, who sat hanging his head. "Tell me, Son, if you had it to do all over again, would you bust Abe out of his tank like that?"

Hellboy looked up at him and thought for a while. "Yes, Father, I would."

"Good," Broom said getting up from his chair, "I'm very proud of you."

Hellboy got up from the floor. "You are? Really?"

Broom smiled at him. "Yes I am, really. Let's go to bed now, I'm sure it's very late."

**Author's afterword:** If this all seems rather 'Abeless' (if not aimless), don't worry he'll be back. I'm just setting up several themes that will be worked on later in this chapter and also in subsequent chapters. Also, don't worry about Hellboy's little toying with Kate's affections. Kate, who knows H.B. really well, is so correct that when he finally falls in love, he's going to fall real hard. Also, I just had so much fun writing that Kate/Hellboy stuff. In the original comic it is probably Kate, and not Liz, who's worming her way into his heart. But don't worry, my stories are still mainly 'movieverse' and so Liz is looming just around the corner in the next decade (and the next chapter).

More Abe stuff to come… (believe me)


	12. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 7

**Author's note:** This takes place directly after the end of Part Six and it won't make much sense if you haven't read the previous parts. Hellboy is dealing with a whole lot of 'growing pains': his first romance with a young woman and another person who enters his life who will upset the balance of his relationship with his father. Hellboy is going to become frustrated and, as he said about himself, he doesn't deal well with frustration.

Reminder: the date at the beginning of this part is November 1, 1978.

****

Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Seven

It wasn't quite seven in the morning when Hellboy awoke from a rather heated dream about Kate Corrigan. He smiled to himself and rolled over onto his stomach, wondering about what had happened the night before. He was just beginning to realize that their relationship was very different now from the 'little sister', 'big brother' relationship it had been in 1959 when Katie had been eight years old.

Hellboy closed his eyes, attempting to fall back asleep and return to that interesting dream he had been having. Soon his breathing became deep and regular; he even began to snore.

But several minutes after having fallen asleep again his rest obviously became disturbed by something troubling; he groaned incoherently and tossed in his sleep. He rolled over onto his back clutching his pillow to his chest, muttering indiscriminate words.

He blinked tears away as he finally woke up. The details of the nightmare were already receding from his conscious memory. The only thing that he could recall was the absolute fear of it all and the knowledge that something dreadful was to happen on November 1st.

"Damn," he groaned as he sat up and tried to calm the racing of his heart. He hadn't had that nightmare in years, not since Trevor Broom had almost died from an allergic reaction to a medication while he was in the hospital in 1959.

Hellboy's fight with Broom the day before and his emotional encounter with him in the wee hours of November 1st were probably what had triggered a recurrence of this nightmare. He looked at the time; it was only ten minutes after seven. He had barely managed to have around three hours of sleep since returning back to Bureau headquarters after his Halloween 'job'.

Hellboy was usually the 'late to bed, late to rise' type. He punched his pillow back into shape, lay back down and tried to go back to sleep. It was no good. Just like in the past, he was not able fall asleep again after having this terrible dream.

He got up, took a very cold shower to drive both the grogginess and the nightmare out of his head, and got dressed. He knew that the main kitchen wouldn't have even started preparing his breakfast this early.

Hellboy decided to see if his father was eating his own breakfast yet. He might be able to snitch a few muffins from his father's breakfast until the kitchen prepared his pancakes.

He really just wanted to see him; in the past this had been one of the ways that he had been able to drive away the fear that this nightmare always made him feel.

However, when he arrived to his father's sleeping quarters he could see that the cart that would have been used to bring him his breakfast was already rolled back out into the corridor for maintenance to clear away. Knocking on the door received no answer; his father must have already gone to his office for the day.

Hellboy poked around in the basket on the cart and discovered two uneaten croissants; not particularly his favorite pastry, but he was hungry.

He then wandered down the corridor, eventually coming to a staff kitchen/break-room where sometimes a pot of coffee could be found in the morning. When he arrived there he poured himself a big mug of black coffee.

Since the chairs at the table in this small kitchen were not designed for someone the size of Hellboy to sit in, he stood at the counter as he drank his coffee and ate his croissants. As he was doing this one of the staff carpenters entered to get a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Hellboy," he said as he walked in, "Up early aren't you? I heard about your job last night and would've thought you'd still be in bed after that one."

"Hey, Carl," Hellboy took another big gulp of his coffee, "Just woke up early; couldn't get back to sleep after that."

"Been around your father's office this morning?" Carl said as he poured some milk into his coffee, "Funny thing he's doing to it, dismantling all those bookcases to install that enormous aquarium."

"When'd he start that, Carl? I was just in his office a little past three this morning and it was just the same as usual." Hellboy poured himself a fresh mug of coffee.

Carl drank from his cup of coffee. "He came around five this morning to get us started. It's going to be a huge job. We've got to re-install all those bookcases someplace else in the office and that tank he's putting in is enormous. It's going to take up a whole wall."

"Thanks for the news, Carl," Hellboy said as he gulped down what was left of the coffee in his mug. He tossed the mug into the small sink in the kitchen, leaving it for someone else to clean up. "I guess I'd better go and see what's going on."

Hellboy left Carl behind in the staff kitchen and walked down the corridor that led toward his father's office. Even though it was still not quite eight in the morning, the renovations in the office were in full swing.

The large, golden oak double-doors that led into the office were fully opened and fastened in some manner to the corridor wall to keep them from swinging closed. A variety of carpenters and other types of workmen were bustling in and out with equipment and building materials.

He found out from the men working in the office that Broom was not there. He had no urge to go to the main kitchen to pester them to cook his breakfast early, so he walked into the Medical Wing and made his way to the chapel that was located there.

Even though Hellboy was trying not to think about it, he was still greatly disturbed by the nightmare that had interrupted his sleep. When his father had been hospitalized for cancer in the Boston facility where they had resided in 1959, he found spending time praying in the chapel a great comfort. He felt the need for that comfort again.

When Hellboy entered the chapel the first thing that he noticed was Trevor Broom kneeling in prayer in front of a large wooden crucifix. His face was buried in his hands and as far as Hellboy could tell he was weeping.

It did not appear that Broom had heard Hellboy walk in. Hellboy knelt next to him, unsure what he should do or say. He reached out and touched Broom's shoulder.

Broom looked up, startled, his eyes filled with tears.

"Father, what's wrong?" Hellboy never recalled seeing his father quite so distressed before. He hated seeing him like this.

Broom leaned over and embraced Hellboy tightly. "I've lost so many of the important people in my life. Thank God, I still have you."

Hellboy sighed; he wished he knew what to say at times like this. After returning the hug he stood up and went to a rack of votive candles and lit one. Broom came over and stood next to him. Hellboy didn't look up, but Broom could see tears in his eyes.

"Father," he said, after a long period of silent contemplation of the candle, "Tell me about something good that happened on November 1st; I've always been so afraid of this day."

Broom smiled ruefully, "This is not a day that I think of or speak of willingly. In the past it always seemed that all of the worst things that happened to me occurred on this day."

He reached down and lit several candles of his own. "It was the day in my childhood when my two younger sisters died and spelled the beginning of the end of my relationship with my parents; it was the day the man who raised me, my dear Grandfather, died; it was the day that the only woman I ever loved died."

He then fell so silent that Hellboy, who now wished he had never brought the topic up, thought that he had finished speaking. But after a while Broom continued, "But there is one good thing I can tell you about this day: it is the day on which I was born."

This surprising statement made Hellboy recall his first birthday in December of 1945 when he had asked Broom when his own birthday was. Broom had said that he would much prefer to celebrate the day on which he had found his son instead of the day of his own birth. He then asked him never to bring it up again.

Broom smiled sadly at Hellboy. "I wish I could be more encouraging, but I'm afraid I have never found this day to be an auspicious one. And it didn't help that I fell asleep again after eating breakfast this morning and had a terrible nightmare."

Even though Hellboy was still disturbed by his own nightmare, he was glad that Broom had told him about his birthday. Somehow that did make this day seem less alarming.

Hellboy turned toward Broom. "Come on, Pop. Let's get out of here. I'm going to the kitchen to pester them into making my pancakes now. I'm starved."

Broom smiled at Hellboy. "May I join you? For some reason I find that I am hungry again and wouldn't mind a few of your pancakes."

"Sure, Pop. Why not?" Hellboy and Broom walked out into the main corridor of the Medical Wing and then exited, heading for the main kitchen. After Hellboy had informed the cooks that he wished to have his breakfast a little earlier than usual, he and Broom proceeded to his room to wait for the arrival of the food.

They sat down together at the table in Hellboy's room where he usually took his meals, drinking mugs of coffee that they had picked up from the small staff kitchen. While they were waiting for the food to arrive Hellboy told Broom that he had already seen his office that morning and asked whether the aquarium he was installing had to do with Abe.

Broom nodded. "While you were away last night I really thought about what I wanted to do with Abe. I totally agree with you that it is time that we let him out of those small tanks in the Medical Wing and familiarize him with the rest of the Bureau personnel."

Broom took another sip of his coffee. "Our researches have shown that Abe can breathe and function out of water almost like a human, and, indeed, he shows some human DNA in his genetic makeup. However, he appears to need to spend significant time in water for optimal physical health. There is a relatively unused space right next to my office. We are going to turn that into a private room for Abe. The large aquarium that I am having installed will have outlets either into this room or into my office."

Just then Hellboy's breakfast arrived. Broom helped himself to three of the pancakes, two pieces of toast, and a few slices of bacon. All the rest of the large bowls filled with food were for Hellboy who was now ravenously hungry.

While they were eating Broom continued his explanation.

"I wish at this point to spend significant time with Abe. Even though he seems to understand perfectly well what is being said to him, he does not appear to be able to speak. Since physical examinations have shown fully developed vocal chords, either this lack of speech is atrophy due to disuse or isolation for over a century has caused him to forget how to speak. I wish to start working with him, teaching him to communicate first through a kind of sign language, hoping eventually to lead him to oral communication."

Hellboy, who up until this time was too busy wolfing down pancakes to speak, laughed. "Bet you're going to use that same sign language you used to teach me to talk. What are you going to use for an office until this stuff is finished? From what I saw this morning you're not going to be able to use your office for some time."

Broom started in on the last of the three pancakes he had taken. "For a lot of my work I could use the small desk that I have in my sleeping quarters. For work that needs more space I have obtained Lee's permission to use his office; he's not planning on being around again for a while. I have taken from my office sufficient reference works to tide me over and, of course, my most important tools are the books that I always keep in that box I tote around with me out in the field."

He used his napkin to wipe maple syrup off of his fingers. "There's been something strange going on with Abe ever since you brought him back from that trip to the Medical Wing staff kitchen. He keeps pointing into his mouth, smacking his lips, and rubbing his stomach. But we can't figure out what he wants us to feed him. What was it that he ate when he was with you?"

Hellboy grinned at Broom. "Rotten eggs. There's this nurse that works here that keeps this lizardy thing as a pet that likes to eat them, so there's always a container of the smelly things in the staff refrigerator. Abe wolfed down four of them before I could get the container away from him. I was afraid that he would make himself sick if he ate too many of them all at once."

Broom poured himself a fresh cup of coffee from the supply that had been sent for Hellboy's breakfast. Hellboy got up from the table and fetched a container of milk from the small refrigerator that was in his room.

Broom nodded his thanks and addressed Hellboy while he was stirring the milk into his coffee. "It seems to me," he said with a little smile, "That there was an infant demon who I had to stop from eating too many Baby Ruth candy bars for that exact same reason."

After Broom was done with his coffee he left to start teaching Abe this sign language. When Hellboy was finished with his breakfast, he found himself sufficiently relaxed to be able take a long nap to make up for the lack of sleep the night before. His dreams were again filled with interesting encounters with Kate rather than disturbing nightmares.

Trevor Broom had the federal government send him some extra workmen in order to get the aquarium installed as soon as possible and also to get Abe's private room renovated and furnished quickly. He then decided to keep some of these extra men as the permanent staff that would work keeping Abe's aquarium maintained and clean.

When the renovations to Broom's office and Abe's new private quarters were complete, this aquarium was a beauty to behold. The light and reflections cast into Broom's office from the water behind this wall of glass that looked out into his office was quite beautiful.

Broom loved just to look at this beautiful aquarium, but it was made even more interesting and wonderful to behold when Abe began to use it. It became even more obvious how graceful he was when he could glide around through the water instead of being confined to tanks so small that he barely had room to move.

Abe could enter this aquarium either from his own private quarters via a stairway that led up to an entrance that opened onto the top of the aquarium or from the upper mezzanine of Broom's office that had access to this same entrance.

Most of this aquarium could be seen from Broom's office, but there was a section that could only be seen from Abe's quarters. This would give him privacy in the aquarium when he wished it. This private section had a passage into the rest of the aquarium that due to an interesting optical illusion could not be seen from Broom's side.

Abe's quarters would be furnished just as all the personal sleeping quarters would be, including a bed, which he could use to sleep if he wished. However, in general, Abe preferred sleeping in water.

* * *

Hellboy entered into his father's office late one morning. This was around three days after Abe had moved out of the Medical Wing into his own quarters and starting using the aquarium. Hellboy found Abe sitting in the office and Trevor Broom was working with him reinforcing the sign language he had been teaching him to communicate with.

Abe looked up as Hellboy walked in and gestured something at him using the sign language. Hellboy had to grin; even though he hadn't seen that sign language in at least 30 years he understood what Abe had 'said' to him.

((Good morning to you too, Abe,)) Hellboy signed back.

Trevor Broom had been so concentrated on what he had been doing with Abe that he had not noticed Hellboy until Abe 'spoke' to him.

"Good morning, Son," he said looking up.

"Morning, Pop," Hellboy said as he walked over to the large desk where Trevor Broom and Abe were seated. "Mind if I sit in and watch for a while. It's kind of fun seeing this stuff again. Brings back lots of old memories."

"Certainly. Stay as long as you like," Broom said, gesturing at one of the very large chairs in the office designed especially for Hellboy.

"You might find this interesting," Broom continued, "I'm finding out all sorts of intriguing things about Abe. Even though he doesn't speak he appears to understand what is spoken to him perfectly well, especially if you speak in English. However, if you speak in another language he understands your general thought even though he seems not to understand any language other than English."

"It's almost as if he can read your thoughts directly. I'm hoping to coax him to start speaking soon. I really do think he must have known how to do it at one time. I have even found that he can write as well as read text in English. He has obviously had some kind of education in the past." Broom turned back to what he had been doing with Abe.

Hellboy made himself comfortable in his chair and watched them work together for a long time. He noticed that Broom worked with Abe in a way that was a little different than he had worked with himself when he was little.

When Broom had first taught this same sign language to Hellboy they both used the sign language to communicate; Broom then slowly introduced communicating to him orally until Hellboy could understand spoken English. Broom then switched to communicating to Hellboy only by speaking to him, eventually hoping to teach Hellboy to speak himself.

With Abe, since he already understood spoken English, as soon as Broom had taught him the most important 'signs' he immediately switched to communicating to Abe using spoken English. The whole process was going along much faster than it had with Hellboy. Whereas Broom had first started working with Hellboy when Hellboy had been an infant it was obvious that Abe, regardless of his inability to speak, was developmentally an adult.

Watching all of this brought a whole train of memories into Hellboy's mind; memories of a time that he hadn't thought about in a long time. He suddenly heaved a huge sigh.

Broom turned toward Hellboy. "Son, if you're bored you don't have to stay any longer."

Hellboy looked up, the look on his face not being one that Broom could read easily. He stood up and walked out of Broom's office without another word.

Broom turned back to Abe. "I wonder what that was all about," he said, more to himself than to the fish man he was seated with.

((Hellboy was not bored,)) signed Abe, ((He was sad.))

Broom looked at Abe in surprise. "Can you actually read what he was feeling that clearly? Can you tell me what he was sad about?"

Abe nodded. ((He was remembering when you taught him this sign language. When he was still small enough to sit in your lap. He sometimes misses those days.))

Trevor Broom looked down at his hands. "I miss those days, too, Abe."

He stood up. "I think we are finished for right now. You can return to your aquarium. I need to go and speak with Hellboy. I do believe I owe my son an apology."

More to come…


	13. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 8

**Author's notes:** This takes place a few weeks after the end of Part Seven. Won't make much sense if you haven't read all the previous parts.

Reminder: Time period here is November 1978

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Eight**

It was a bit longer than Trevor Broom expected for Abe to start speaking. It obviously had nothing to do with intelligence; he could read at an adult level and could communicate abstract information using the sign language.

Abe was already helping Broom conduct his research into paranormal phenomena. Trevor Broom knew that his assistant Mark Baldwin was itching to join his older brother George in the field doing hands on research; George Baldwin in his younger years had been Broom's assistant in Boston. Broom was beginning to think that it was time to let Mark follow his brother and that Abe would be the perfect replacement.

He was also beginning to think that it would be interesting to bring Abe out with Hellboy on field assignments. Abe seemed to Trevor Broom to be the perfect candidate to be his replacement for doing research to assist Hellboy when squelching paranormal invasions.

Broom had come to the unfortunate conclusion that Hellboy was too disinterested, if not too unintelligent, to perform this research for himself. Being able to depend on Abe to do this would lessen considerably Broom's anxiety about what would happen to Hellboy when Broom became too elderly or too unwell to perform this task.

But what was most on Trevor Broom's mind at this point was why Abe, with all his intelligence, still seemed unable to speak. He decided that now would be a good time to have a long talk with Abe.

Sometimes Abe liked a little tea; he certainly preferred tea to coffee. Broom invited Abe to join him for his afternoon tea break.

Abe emerged from his aquarium and descended down the spiral staircase into Broom's office. His slender frame was slightly damp and he was dressed in his typical form-fitting dark spandex shirt and shorts. His webbed feet were bare.

Abe joined Broom at the small table near the fireplace where he liked to take his tea. They drank a few cups of tea and discussed the works of literature Abe had been reading recently. Broom then broached the topic that was upper-most on his mind.

"Abe, I've been considering the problem that you seem to have with speaking. I am curious about your past and would like to inquire if you ever remember anything of the life you led before we found you."

Abe closed his eyes for several seconds as if in contemplation of the question.

((Sometimes I have dreams,)) he 'signed' as he opened his eyes, ((I believe they may be of the time before I was placed in that tank in St. Trinian's where you found me.))

Abe poured himself another cup of tea and drank a little before he continued.

((These dreams are not frightening, but they are very odd. I do not recall much detail from these dreams, but have the distinct impression that at some point in my life I may have been human. I believe that what knowledge I have that was not taught to me by you yourself comes from what I learned during the time when I was human. As to how or why I became what I am now, I do not have any conscious memory.))

Broom considered the information Abe had just given him. "Tell me, do you ever recall speaking at any point in your previous life?"

Abe shook his head. ((I may have spoken in my past human life, but don't really recall this. I do not believe that I have ever spoken since this transformation occurred. My life has become one where silence is normal and I am finding it hard to fight against this.))

Broom did not wish to pressure Abe to recall more of his past or to proceed faster in his development than was comfortable for him. So he returned the conversation to the literary works Abe had been reading.

At one point during this conversation Abe brought up something that he had been considering. ((Professor, I find that I spend considerable time during the day reading. I usually read at least four books a day. Would it be possible to come up with a way for me to read while in my aquarium? I would like to spend more time in the water.))

Broom looked at the panes of glass that separated Abe's aquarium from Broom's office.

"Yes, I do believe there is a way. I could have four stands installed in front of the glass of the aquarium. You should be able to read the books on these stands through the glass. You often read more than one book at a time; if you read four books at a time you would probably need the pages turned about every half hour. I could turn the pages for you when you indicate that you're ready; I'm usually in the office working and wouldn't mind taking on this task for you. When I'm not here you could either read in my office or emerge from the aquarium to turn the pages for yourself."

The door to Broom's office opened and Hellboy walked in.

"Gee, I was kind of hoping to talk with you, Pop. But it's something personal and I'd rather wait until you're alone."

Broom smiled up at Hellboy. "Maybe after I eat supper this evening; I could send for you to come to my room."

"Sure, Pop. Whenever. It's not that important, really."

Hellboy was a little annoyed. It was getting harder and harder to find his father alone. Not that he really needed to talk to Broom all that often, but he was used to him being more available than he had become recently. Abe's presence was starting to become intrusive.

"Well, I think it's time to return to my work." Broom got up from the table and sat down at his desk planning on working until it was time for his supper.

Abe, who was still seated at the table, leaned forward and looked up at Hellboy, curious about what he was sensing from him.

((Who is this Kate Corrigan you are thinking such interesting thoughts about?))

((I'm not thinking anything about anybody.)) Hellboy 'signed' back brusquely.

((Yes, you are, most certainly.)) Abe countered. He could sense that by this time Hellboy was blushing furiously. Abe didn't know anything about romance from his own personal experience, but he had been developing a taste recently for dime-store romance novels; he found what he was sensing from Hellboy quite amusing.

Hellboy, on the other hand, did not find it amusing at all.

"Out!" Hellboy shouted, "Get the hell out of my head, fish stick! Right now!"

Trevor Broom, who had not noticed this interchange until Hellboy started shouting, stood up from his desk. "Son, what are you shouting about? It might be better if you left."

Hellboy turned to face him. "Sure, Pop, throw me out. I'm not the one who started this."

Broom sighed, "Well, maybe you didn't start it; but I'm finishing it. I can't work like this. I'm not sure what has been going on recently, but this hasn't been the first altercation between you two. And I certainly do not approve of you calling Abe names."

Hellboy moved closer to Broom. "Abe's driving me crazy! He keeps reading my mind all the time. Whatever I'm thinking about is my business, not his."

Broom turned to Abe. "While you may find it amusing to push certain of his buttons to watch my son over-react, I do not find it quite as amusing. I do agree with my son on one point, however; you have developed a bad habit of reading a person's private thoughts. This is intrusive and really must come to an end. It is not something you should be doing for your own amusement and should be reserved for emergency situations only."

"Damn, right!" said Hellboy. "I don't want Abe reading my thoughts again, ever. Not unless I say it's okay. Period. End of discussion."

Hellboy turned and angrily strode out of Broom's office.

_This update may be kind of short, but this is a good point to break off. _

_Thanks, and Happy New Year, to all who have been reading this and leaving such good comments. Stay tuned, more to come…_


	14. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 9

**Author's notes: **This takes place right after Part Eight and won't make sense if you haven't read the previous parts.

Reminder: Time period here is November 1978

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Nine**

Hellboy, as he stormed out of his father's office, shoved the right-hand door open with his over-sized stone hand. The door swung hard, slamming into the concrete wall of the corridor before swinging back closed.

Trevor Broom got up from his desk and examined the door and the corridor wall. Shaking his head he went to his desk and made a note to himself to tell maintenance to repair the damage that was now evident on both sides of the beautifully carved door.

He then returned to his interrupted work. After a time he felt a touch on his shoulder and looked up to see Abe standing next to his desk.

((I must apologize for my actions, Professor,)) Abe gestured, ((I never meant for things to go that far. He's just so easy to tease.))

Broom got up from his desk and drew a second chair closer.

"Abe, please sit down," he said as he again sat behind his desk, "Of course, I realize that you never meant to hurt him. But you have to try to understand him. He may look so large and invulnerable, but he is really quite sensitive and has never taken well to being teased by people he doesn't know well. He both needs, and deserves, respect."

Abe nodded. To most eyes Abe's fish-like face looked rather expressionless, but Broom could tell that Abe was troubled by this disapproval of his actions.

"Hellboy doesn't have a malicious bone in his entire body," Broom continued, "But he does have a terrible temper and can be lacking in judgment at times. He doesn't work well with people he does not respect or he believes disrespect him. It is my intention to have the two of you work together and I'm afraid you lost his respect today."

((I am not reading his thoughts intentionally,)) Abe contested, ((He has so little mental discipline that his thoughts broadcast far and wide. It is hard to avoid picking them up.))

Broom held up his hand. "Abe, from some complaints that have come to me recently, obviously Hellboy is not the only person here whose thoughts 'broadcast far and wide'. This is something that I had planned on addressing in due course, but today's events brought this issue to the forefront. It is your responsibility to develop 'mental discipline' and not that of the others around you. Out of all of your unique attributes, the ability to read the thoughts of others is your most powerful and least controlled ability."

Abe, who was now even more disconcerted than before, looked down. Broom reached out and touched Abe's right hand, which was now resting on the surface of his desk.

Broom smiled when Abe looked back up; the smile widened into a grin. "Believe me, I am not angry with you. I have enough experience with the 'powerful and uncontrolled' to last me several lifetimes."

He got up from his desk and gestured for Abe to follow him. He pointed out to Abe the gouges left behind on his office door by Hellboy's earlier precipitous exit.

"Frankly, I have been spending most of the last thirty-four years of my life stressing that Hellboy not use his right hand unless necessary. He still has some trouble with it when he loses his temper. Yet, even so, I am very proud of the restraint that he has learned with great personal effort over the years; such is the true strength of that hand that he could just as easily have put it right through the door instead of leaving these few scratches on it. Controlling that hand is an ongoing battle for him, but it is one he usually wins."

They returned back to his desk and sat down again. Broom got out a memo pad and jotted a few things down on it. "I will have the staff psychologists develop a series of exercises to help you form intentionally controlled mental shields that can be dropped as needed. I certainly do not want to completely deprive you of what could be one of your greatest assets when you start working for us as a field agent."

He placed the memo in his urgent 'to do' box, along with the maintenance requisition to repair his office door. "I really need to get back to work now. But there is one further point I would like to make before I let you go. As you notice from the damage to my door, even the best of control can slip at times. Your greatest discipline will be in learning to ignore what thoughts may inadvertently slip through to you from others. If you do not learn to do this you will lose the trust of most of the people here."

Abe got up from his chair. ((Should I try to apologize to Hellboy?))

Broom considered this, and then shook his head. "Sometimes it's better just to let things work their course with him. If you go to him now it could just end up angering him even further and wouldn't make this situation any better. Try to be circumspect in your dealings with him over the next few days and I hope this will all just blow over."

Things at first seemed to work out pretty much the way Broom had expected; after several days of barely controlled hostility, Hellboy seemed to return to a more good-natured way of dealing with Abe.

Unfortunately, Broom had miscalculated the depth of Hellboy's growing resentment of one who he was more and more beginning to look on as an intruder in his life; as one who was trying to usurp his role within the BPRD, both as the 'son' of the director and as it's sole 'unique' agent.

This miscalculation would end up almost costing both Hellboy and Abe their lives.

More to come…


	15. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 10

**Author's notes: **This really won't make sense if you haven't read the previous parts. There is some slight connection here to my earlier fic Remember Who You Are. If you haven't read that you might want to, but it's not really necessary.

'Ed' is Father Edward Kelly, a character from the Hellboy comic The Wolves of St. August. I had used this character previously in Part Three of my fic A Tale of 'Demon' Rights as the young priest who baptized Hellboy.

Reminder: Time period here is November 1978

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Ten**

_Black. Everything was black, black, black— and cold, very cold. He tried to move. It was like he was frozen in place. He tried to get his mind to work. Where was he? How did he get here? He tried even harder to move and was just able to wriggle the fingers of his right hand. He thought he could hear distant voices. _

"Bzzz, bzzzzz bzz bzzzzz bz bz? Bzzz bzz bzzzzz bz bz bz bz."

_This was the most that he could make out. _

_Suddenly a huge, dark voice boomed out from that freezing darkness. _

**_"Welcome home, my son." _**

_The darkness, which had already seemed so absolute, became even darker and colder. _

_He was actually relieved at this development: a nightmare, that's what this was, just a bad dream. He had a vague recollection of having had this same nightmare many times when he was very little. But he had been baptized when he was five years old and after that he had never had that same nightmare again. _

_He struggled to wake up, but was unable to divest himself of this apparition of darkness. _

**_"Do not fight against me, my son. This is where you truly belong." _**

_He tried to sit up. It was like he had the weight of the world resting on his chest. He started to feel like he was suffocating— like his heart was no longer able to beat. _

_Pain, he could now feel great pain. His heart struggled to beat; it was like it was some bird trying to break free from the great weight that was crushing it. _

_This searing pain in his chest cleared his head somewhat. He could now make out what the distant voices were saying. _

"Damn it, Ed, we're losing him! Isn't there something more you can do to banish this entity that has possessed him?"

"I've tried almost every incantation I know for exorcising demons, Trevor. This must be an extremely powerful one. I'm not sure how much more I can do."

"He's going into cardiac arrest," shouted a woman's voice, "Clear!"

_A sudden jolt to his chest made him more aware of his surroundings. He was in some sort of bed. He could hear a man sobbing hysterically. Then that hideous darkness came back and everything started to fade again. _

"Clear!" the woman's voice shouted again.

_There was another jolt to his chest. He could now make out that the sobbing man was praying something. _

"God, please, not this way, please, please. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Not this way, not now. Please."

_The man just kept on repeating this over and over. _

_"Father," he suddenly thought to himself, "That man's my father, not that thing in the darkness." He felt so weak; he tried to speak, but it was like his mouth was full of cotton. _

_The ghastly and horrifyingly cold darkness closed in again. _

"God damn it!" shouted a third man's voice, "We're losing him again! Nurse, hand me that vial of digitalis. Trevor, I'm going to have to…"

_The voices again faded into an anonymous buzzing sound. _

**_"Welcome back, my son; my favorite son." _**

_Suddenly there was a pain in his arm as if the largest needle in the world was shoved in. _

_He concentrated on the feeling of strength that flowed into him through that pain and shoved that horrible voice away from him. _

**_"I'm not your son! Never was, never will be! Already have a father and he's all the father I need. So why don't you just buzz off!" _**

With that, the freezing darkness started to fade. It was eventually replaced by another kind of darkness; a darkness that was so warm and comforting he drifted off to sleep.

_More to come…_


	16. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 11

**Author's notes:** This follows after Part Ten, but will be flashing back to events that happened in between Part Nine and Part Ten.

The Berkshire School is a real college preparatory boarding school in Massachusetts and has been for over twenty years the summer location of the Berkshire Choral Festival. Founded in 1907 as a boys' school it is now co-ed.

Memorial Hall, which is now due for demolition this year, was until recently a boys' dormitory. My husband and I are basically familiar with this spartan residence from our first two years of participation in the Berkshire Choral Festival.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Eleven**

**_BPRD Medical Facility, Boston, Massachusetts  
Wednesday, November 22, 1978_**

Hellboy floated up out of a warm darkness and awoke to a kind of conscious awareness of his surroundings, but was still too weak to move or open his eyes. He began to realize that he had been asleep, or possibly unconscious, for a long time.

He could hear a muffled sobbing that was coming from somewhere very close by. He struggled to open his eyes and see who this was, but was unable. He eventually became aware that someone was holding very tightly onto his left hand.

Just as he was starting to slip back down into that warm and comfortable darkness, the sobbing stopped and he heard a man's voice, hoarse from crying. "Give him back to me, you bastard. He's my son, not yours. Give him back to me. Give him back."

Hellboy heard a door open and another man's voice spoke, "Trevor, you haven't eaten or slept for days. You can't keep going on like this. His condition is relatively stable, so why don't you come with me and get something to eat and take a nap?"

"I can't, Ed, I just can't," the first man said, "I used to think that he came to me for a reason; that I had been chosen to raise him for some purpose. I no longer give a goddamn for reasons or purposes. I just want my son back." He began to sob again.

Hellboy strove with all his strength to reach out to the weeping man. He just couldn't do it and slipped back into the unconscious state he had been in for the past several days.

* * *

_(Beginning of flashback)_

**_Early Sunday Morning, November 19, 1978_**

"What's up this time, Pop? Where are we going?" Hellboy had just been woken by the code red alarm from a sound sleep. He dressed hastily and went to Trevor Broom's office. He was informed that there was a very serious problem to be dealt with.

Broom was quickly collecting up everything that he thought he was going to need. "Something has come up at the Berkshire School in Sheffield, Massachusetts. It seems that some boys who had not left for Thanksgiving break yet had been playing around with a ouija board late last night and managed to call up something they couldn't handle."

Broom started to shove everything he had collected into the large wooden box that he had been toting around for as long as Hellboy could remember. "Do me a favor and go find Abe. He must still be in his private quarters. I want him to come with us this time."

Hellboy stared at Broom. "What in the hell do we need him for?"

Broom looked up from his task. "Son, you know that I have spoken with you about wanting to start Abe working with us in the field. I really feel that we could use the extra help on this one."

Hellboy scowled at Broom. "I don't like it, Pop. We're a team— just you and me. We don't need anyone else, especially not old smarty-pants."

Trevor Broom put down the book that he had been contemplating adding to his box and placed his hand on Hellboy's shoulder. "You don't object to the other agents we bring with us. Why this aversion to taking Abe? Son, I have a bad feeling about this one and I would really prefer that he be with us."

Hellboy shrugged, "Anything you want, I'll do; you know that." He went out to get Abe.

Eventually they all piled into several black sedans and the ubiquitous garbage truck that Hellboy always traveled in. He was annoyed to find that this truck, which always seemed too cramped to him to begin with, now had a water tank installed and bolted into place. Abe was already inside of this.

By the time they added the rolling munitions cases and other equipment Broom thought might be necessary, Hellboy felt like there was practically no room for him. Abe 'signed' a greeting to him as he climbed into the truck, but he ignored him.

Hellboy grumpily crammed himself onto his uncomfortable bench. Trevor Broom got to sit in a nice comfortable seat in the front of one of the sedans; Abe had a pretty roomy tank to float around in. All Hellboy had to sit on was that stupid bench that was made even smaller by the need to accommodate Abe's tank in the back of the truck.

Before they departed Broom had given out directions to all the drivers. Hellboy groaned when he found out that Sheffield was near Great Barrington. He used to live in Massachusetts. He knew that they were in for a long trip.

Having departed BPRD headquarters in Newark at 7:30am they arrived a little after 10:00am to Salisbury, Connecticut where they stopped for some coffee. While they were there Broom called ahead to the Berkshire School. They left Salisbury about fifteen minutes later, traveling north on Route 41, which eventually became North Undermountain Road. They found the entrance to the Berkshire School on the left.

They came to a stop right after they pulled onto the maple-lined drive that led onto the beautiful campus nestled at the foot of a mountain range. A school official was waiting for them at the entrance. He climbed into the lead car and spoke with Trevor Broom.

Giving directions to the driver he guided them to a campus road that diverged to the right and led to Memorial Hall, one of the older buildings on campus. There were offices on the first floor of this building, but the room they were heading for was one of the dorm rooms on the second floor.

According to reports there had been four teen-age boys in that room with a ouija board the night before. They were still in there. But no one could go into that room without encountering a freezing atmosphere and a sudden darkness that overcame them despite the fact that the lights were on in the room and it was now a relatively sunny day.

Most who had tried to get into that room had managed to make it back out, but one unfortunate student who had tried to pull his friend out of that room had been overcome. So at this point in time there were five boys lying unconscious on the floor of the room and anyone trying to get in could no longer get the door open.

**_Later that same morning_**

Trevor Broom and Abe Sapien were digging through the books Broom had brought with him. Hellboy was becoming more and more frustrated. They were on one side of the door and five boys were on the other side. They had no idea if the boys were dead or alive and he hated not knowing.

Earlier Abe had removed one of the leather gloves he usually wore to protect his webbed hands when he was outdoors and had pressed his right hand to the wood of the door. He became convinced that there was some really powerful entity of some type on the other side of the door and had 'signed' to Hellboy that he not attempt to break into the room.

"I think you're over-reacting, Abe," Hellboy grunted with his back toward him, testing the strength of the door with his enormous right hand. "What bunch of kids with a ouija board could conjure up something that big? And I really don't like the idea of leaving those kids in there. Don't care what you say, I'm going in."

He pulled back his right hand in preparation for bashing the door in.

((No, don't do it,)) Abe signed frantically at Hellboy's back, but how do you argue in sign language with someone who won't look at you?

"Damn it, you big red monkey," an unfamiliar voice shouted at Hellboy. "Why…"

Hellboy stopped in mid-punch, swung around, and glared at the other agents there.

"Who the hell's calling me a monkey?" He then realized that everyone was staring at Abe, all looking rather dumbfounded, including Abe himself.

Hellboy laughed. "Jeez, Abe, you sound like that robot from Star Wars. If we painted you gold you'd even look like him. You can swear at me and call me names all you want if I get to see that look on Father's face again. At least my first word was 'father', or something that kind of sounded like it."

Trevor Broom grinned. "No, Son, your first word was 'crap'. You probably don't remember that; it happened the first night that I found you. You never spoke another word until eight months later. That is when you attempted to say the word 'father'."

Abe chuckled under his breath at that and then spoke again, stumbling over some words, "I really m-m-mean it, Hellboy. Don't g-go in there. N-n-nothing good will come of it."

Hellboy shrugged and turned back to the door.

"Son, you really should listen to what Abe is telling you," said Trevor Broom who again started digging through the books he had brought with him.

"You're both trying to make out like I'm stupid or something. I've been doing this damn job ever since I was ten years old. I don't see that there's anything much to worry about. If something comes after me, I'll just shoot it down. Bet it'll be a piece of cake."

Hellboy pulled back his stone-like right hand and punched the room door in so that it jumped off its hinges and fell into the room. He looked in through the doorframe.

Outside of five unconscious boys on the floor, the room looked perfectly normal. Light came into the room through the window opposite the door and a wan light was cast from the rather dim fluorescent ceiling light. Hellboy grinned at seeing the ugly, utilitarian furniture that filled the room. It looked like it was made from 2 by 4's and, outside of the graffiti etched into it, was certainly the kind of furniture no boy could destroy.

He pulled his huge gun, the Samaritan, from its holster and cautiously walked into the room. Nothing much happened. He moved further into the room, closer to the unconscious boys. "Look at this, Abe, all that fuss over nothing."

That was the moment when all Hell, literally, broke loose and everything around Hellboy went cold and dark. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe; the Samaritan dropped from his nerveless fingers.

Something grappled him from behind and started dragging him backwards. He suddenly found that he could move again. He still could hardly see, but managed to grab up his gun again and shoot blindly at the creature that had a grip on him. Dark blue blood flew everywhere and whatever had him in its grip let go of him.

"Funny," Hellboy thought, "I've never seen a monster that bled blue before." This was his last thought before he was sucked back into that freezing darkness.

From Trevor Broom's point of view, everything happened so fast that he hardly had time to react. At first, as he peered through the now door-less entrance, it just looked like Hellboy had stopped dead in his tracks and dropped his gun.

Abe, when he had seen this, immediately ran into the room to drag Hellboy out. The minute this occurred the room was suddenly filled with a strange inky blackness. The weirdest thing about it was that light was still pouring in through the window and shining down from the ceiling fixture, but was unable to penetrate this weird darkness. The boom of Hellboy's huge gun rang out.

Desperate to know what had happened to Hellboy and Abe, Broom tried to enter into the room, but was unable to physically penetrate this barrier of darkness. A huge, dark voice unexpectedly spoke.

**"Human, you have kept me from my son for long enough. I have returned for him." **

_(End of flashback)_

_For those who might be interested, November 19th is my birthday. More to come…_


	17. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 12

**Author's notes:** This begins with a flashback to the climax of the events at the Berkshire School; this will be more from Abe's point of view but will still be written in the third person. This flashback will go on to a conversation between Abe and Broom later in that same day.

You must, at least, read Part Eleven for this part to make sense.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twelve **

**_Sunday, Late Morning, November 19, 1978 _**

"Look at that, Abe, all that fuss over nothing," Hellboy said as he cautiously crept, gun in hand, into the dorm room after he had busted the door down. Abe watched as Hellboy went and stood next to the five unconscious boys he was planning to rescue.

Abe, along with Trevor Broom, moved closer to the now empty doorway. He did not feel at all good about this. He could sense, even more clearly than before, an extremely powerful entity.

His heart leaped in his chest when he became aware that Hellboy, for no apparent reason, had just stopped dead in his tracks and dropped his huge gun to the floor. Abe shoved past Trevor Broom and, running into the room, grabbed Hellboy from behind.

With desperate strength he began to drag the practically unconscious Hellboy backward toward the doorway. Hellboy started to come to and struggled frantically against Abe who realized that Hellboy, for some odd reason, couldn't really see what was going on despite the fact that the room was quite brightly lit.

He tried to speak to Hellboy, to reassure him that he was in the hands of a friend, but the words just wouldn't come. Hellboy might not have been able to hear him anyway.

Abe tried to get into Hellboy's mind—to broadcast a reassuring thought directly at him. But there was now a dark barrier that his thought could not penetrate; one that was not at all natural.

Hellboy made a dive to the floor, trying to break free from the one that had grabbed him, and the next thing Abe knew he was staring down the barrel of Hellboy's enormous gun.

"Damn," was the only thing that he could think to say as Hellboy fired at point-blank range.

Abe attempted to twist away from the shot without letting go of his hold of the frantic Hellboy, but the pain of that 22mm bullet slamming into his right shoulder was just too much for him.

Hellboy, for a brief second, appeared to stare in shocked surprise at the sight of all that dark blue blood that poured out from Abe's wound.

Abe collapsed to his knees and watched helplessly as Hellboy fell to the floor in a dead faint. He became aware that an odd impenetrable shadow had sprang up between them and the doorway and that Trevor Broom was frantically trying to force himself into the room.

Unexpectedly, a huge, dark, powerful voice boomed out.

**"Human, you have kept me from my son for long enough. I have returned for him."**

"Told you so, you big monkey," Abe muttered as he blacked out from the pain and blood loss.

* * *

**_Later that same day_**

When he came to, he found himself in the back of an ambulance with his right shoulder all bandaged up. He was groggy from some pain reliever that must have been administered while he was still unconscious. Trevor Broom clambered up into the back of the ambulance. His right eye was black and he had stitches and bandages all along the right side of his face. He went over to a bench next to the cot that Abe was lying on and sat down. His eyes were filled with tears.

After a deep breath he said, "Abe, I am so sorry. I should never have brought you here. This entity that has possessed him is taking advantage of an underlying resentment Hellboy has toward my bringing you on this trip. My poor boy is totally out of his mind and some sort of internal conflict is being exploited by this fiend that is claiming to be his real father."

Abe struggled to sit up. "Don't blame yourself, Professor. There wasn't any way that you could have predicted something like this. It's a good thing the big monkey has such poor aim with that gun even at that close a range." Even though Abe's speech was still somewhat hesitant, little by little speaking was become second nature to one who had been mute for over a century.

Broom wearily dropped his head into his hands; he could still hear Hellboy shouting venomous words of hatred at him; he could still see that huge right hand being driven at him in a punch that would have killed him instantly if it had directly connected with his head.

Hellboy had never before hit Broom with that hand—or even threatened to hit him with it; not even unintentionally when he had been very young and had little control over it. The very worst part of this memory for Broom wasn't the pain of the blow so much as it had been watching Hellboy's own horror at what he was doing; to watch him struggling to take back control of that hand; to see him grab onto his own right arm with his left hand in an attempt to deflect the blow.

Hellboy's own valiant struggle against himself, and against this hideous entity that had possessed him, drove him into a weird state of seizure. At the very moment when his fist grazed the right side of Broom's head, Hellboy crumpled unconscious to the ground at his father's feet.

Trevor Broom stood up, shaking his head to dislodge these terrible memories, "I am so sorry that I cannot stay with you at this time of trouble, but my son needs me; I must go to him. I also have what seems like a hundred paramedics, doctors, and school officials to debrief. The best thing about this whole fiasco is that the five boys have survived this incident with nothing more than bad headaches. They do not really recall anything. School officials have informed them that they were overcome by fumes from a faulty radiator; the fifth boy also believes that he was overcome by fumes when he attempted to rescue his friend."

Broom reached down and squeezed Abe's good shoulder. "Thank you for trying to save my son. Thank God, I have found that we are close to a small municipal airport in Pittsfield, Massachusetts that can handle small jets. You are going to be flown to Newark; the Bureau facilities there are the most adequately equipped for your care. Hellboy and I will be flying to Boston. Father Ed Kelly is stationed at the BPRD facility there and I believe that we will be as much in need of his expertise as an exorcist as in medical care for Hellboy. Good luck, Abe."

With that Trevor Broom departed and Abe wondered how bad things really were with Hellboy.

_More to come… _


	18. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 13

**Author's notes:** Most of Part Eleven and all of Part Twelve constituted flashbacks to the crisis events of Sunday, November 19, 1978. Part Thirteen below returns to the Boston BPRD Medical Facility location that opened Part Eleven. This won't make much sense if you haven't at least read the parts after Part Nine.

Many thanks to all who have been following this and leaving such good reviews.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Thirteen **

**_BPRD Medical Facility, Boston, Massachusetts  
Thursday, November 23, 1978 (Thanksgiving Day) _**

Hellboy again floated up from the warm and comfortable darkness he had been drifting in ever since he managed to shove that terrible dark voice out of his head. This time he was stronger than he had been and was able to open his eyes and lift his head slightly. He slowly became aware that he was in a hospital room and was connected to several machines including an artificial respirator. He could hear the steady beeps of a heart monitor.

He began looking around the room. It looked oddly familiar even though he couldn't quite recall when he had seen this room before. He certainly did not recall how he had gotten there. In fact his last clear memory was of departing Newark with Trevor Broom, Abe, and other BPRD agents to go to Sheffield, Massachusetts to investigate and defuse some paranormal activity there.

He tried to lift his head further, but was still too weak and relaxed back down onto his pillow. This movement had been so slight that neither Trevor Broom nor Martha Wilson, who was acting as attendant nurse, had noticed.

Martha had come out of retirement to help out so that some of the other nurses could go home for Thanksgiving. In fact, wild horses couldn't have kept her away when she had found out that one of her favorite people in the world was endangered and her other favorite person was practically starving himself in despair.

On the evening of November 22nd she had finally convinced Trevor Broom to get up from his kneeling position next to Hellboy's hospital bed, sit in a real chair, and eat some food that she brought to him. He had finally fallen asleep in the chair; the first time that he had slept or ate since they had arrived to the BPRD facility late Sunday afternoon.

At one point Martha just had to shake her head and smile: even though they were so different, they were also so alike, this odd pair. She recalled how many times in 1959, when Trevor Broom had been hospitalized for cancer, she had to beg, browbeat, and cajole the fourteen-year-old Hellboy into sleeping, eating, and getting up off the floor next to Broom's bed.

A few hours after Hellboy had awoken for the first time, he raised his head again. This time he was even more aware of his surroundings. He noticed Broom asleep in the chair. The rosary that Broom usually wore around his wrist was in his hand as if he had been praying just before he fell asleep. Hellboy also noticed the black eye and the bandages on the right side of Broom's face.

Martha Wilson was not in the room at the time. As Hellboy's condition had stabilized significantly she had gone out to get herself some lunch.

Hellboy attempted to call out to Broom, but the mask of the respirator over his nose and mouth made this difficult. Hellboy licked his lips and tried again.

"Fafah?" Hellboy finally managed to croak out, barely above a whisper. But even that small sound woke Broom immediately, who originally thought he was dreaming of the time when the eight-month-old Hellboy had first attempted to say the word 'father'.

When Broom lifted his head and saw Hellboy looking at him for the first time since he had fainted at Broom's feet at the Berkshire School, he thought his heart would break with joy. He got up from the chair and hurried over to the bed. Despite all the tubes and wires and Hellboy's sheer size, he pulled Hellboy up into his arms and embraced him closely.

"Thank God, oh, thank God," was all Trevor Broom could gasp out over and over, his entire body filled with the ecstasy of finally holding his son, alive and aware, in his arms once more.

After Broom had held him for some time, he gently laid Hellboy back down on the bed and kissed his forehead. He then fell to his knees next to the bed clasping Hellboy's left hand in his own, tears streaming down his face, some soaking into the bandages on his cheek.

Hellboy was shaken by all of this; he still felt so weak and had so little memory of what had happened. But he realized from his adoptive father's extremity of emotion that whatever had occurred must have been almost catastrophic.

Hellboy reached over with his right hand and with just the first of those huge stone fingers gently stroked Broom's injured cheek. Even though he had no memory whatsoever of striking Broom, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, which hand it was that had caused this injury.

"How could I do it? How could I hit you?" Hellboy managed to mumble through the ventilator mask. Only the ears of a loving father could have understood even half of what he was saying.

Broom grabbed that huge hand in both of his own hands and kissed it. "Son, I _was_ struck by this hand, but _you _were not the creature who hit me. In fact, _you_ almost died trying to stop this hand from knocking my head off completely. I would be dead now, if it were not for that."

Broom gently caressed the enormous hand, holding it to his bruised cheek.

Some vague intimations of memory started to creep into Hellboy's scattered consciousness. Some of these were glimpses of images and actions of an almost nightmarish quality. But Hellboy's rattled brain still had difficulty piecing these images together into a coherent whole.

Some memories did start to gel, though, especially the memory of Abe's first spoken words. He also remembered shooting at something that had grabbed him from behind; something that was dragging him where he did not want to go; something that bled an odd blue blood when it was shot. But Hellboy couldn't remember what that creature looked like.

Just then Martha Wilson re-entered the room and walked over to him with a big smile on her face.

"It's wonderful to see you've decided to come back to the land of the living, H.B."

She bent down and kissed his cheek and then adjusted the bed so that Hellboy could sit up. "I think I'd better go get Dr. Patterson to come and look at you. I believe he may decide that you don't need that ventilator any longer." She walked back out.

Her unexpected presence there, in addition to her mention of Robert Patterson, who was still the chief surgeon of the Boston BPRD Medical Facility, caused Hellboy to realize why his hospital room had seemed vaguely familiar. It was the room where Trevor Broom had been hospitalized for cancer— the room where, for close to six months, Hellboy had sat at his dangerously ill father's side day after day and prayed fervently for his recovery.

Broom arose from his kneeling position on the floor next to the bed and fetched the chair that he had been sitting in. He drew it closer to Hellboy's bed and sat down to wait for the arrival of Dr. Robert Patterson, who had once been the physician in charge of Broom's own care when he had spent so much time in this room.

Back in 1959, when Broom had been so ill, Dr. Patterson had a difficult time dealing with the mere fact of Hellboy's existence. The boy just seemed too impossible to be real and Robert Patterson's way of dealing with him was basically to ignore him— to refuse to deal with him at all.

One way he had attempted to minimize Hellboy's impact on him was to come up with reasons to block Hellboy from visiting Broom when he had been in the Medical Wing for cancer treatment. He also ignored any requests from the worried boy for information about Broom's condition.

But Hellboy's deep, if unexpressed, devotion to the man he called Father was too strong. With Martha Wilson, the head nurse, becoming more and more attached to Hellboy, Robert Patterson found himself no longer able to just ignore him. Once Dr. Patterson really started to pay attention to Hellboy, he began to recognize what it was that Broom saw to love in him.

He soon became very attached himself to that seven-foot-tall, fourteen-year-old, supposed demon from Hell. He was very sorry that it was not long after Broom's discharge from his care that the main headquarters to the BPRD moved to New Jersey. He never realized how much he was going to miss Hellboy constantly hanging around his Medical Facility.

So when Hellboy turned up again almost twenty years later, this time as a patient and close to death, Robert Patterson, who was now close to retirement, felt that his whole career as a doctor would end on a very sour note if he could not keep the big red guy alive. He had found it terrifying to see the seemingly invulnerable monster hunter reduced to that state of powerlessness and to see Trevor Broom grieving the loss of his beloved son while that son was still fighting for his life.

Dr. Patterson had been thankful that Broom realized that the problem was more than a physical one and had made sure that Father Ed Kelly was on hand to help out. It was Father Ed's fighting against the entity possessing Hellboy that, along with the various medical ministrations, had turned the tide.

It was also obvious from certain odd things that had happened over the last several days that Hellboy had been fighting his own fight as well. Robert Patterson did not think that he had ever felt happier than when Nurse Wilson had said that Hellboy had finally come out of his comatose state. He determined that the respirator was no longer needed and the ventilator mask was removed. What weakness was left was merely the aftermath of the ordeal and was sure to pass.

Patterson pulled Broom over to the side and whispered to him. "I think we should wait until he is stronger to tell him anything." Broom nodded, hoping that Hellboy had not overheard.

But even in his weakened state Hellboy's hearing was very sharp. He sat up straighter looking at Broom and Patterson. "Tell me what? What exactly happened back there? Did all those kids die?"

He closed his eyes as a memory finally came through more clearly. "Shit, I shot Abe, didn't I?"

_More to come..._


	19. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 14

**Author's notes:** This continues directly from Part Thirteen. Reminder: the date is November 23, 1978 (Thanksgiving Day). Please read previous parts if you haven't done so. If you have, thanks for reading!!

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Fourteen**

Hellboy sat up straighter in his hospital bed. Dr. Robert Patterson was whispering to Trevor Broom about not telling him about something until he was stronger; obviously it was something he was not supposed to overhear. He looked at them closer.

His heart started to beat faster and the blips from the heart monitor he was connected to demonstrated this. "Tell me what? What exactly happened back there? Did all those kids die?"

He racked his brain for any scattered memories of the events of Sunday, November 19th.

Patterson and Broom turned toward Hellboy, who had closed his eyes to concentrate on recalling something of that terrible day.

Like an image slowly coming into focus, a single event started to become less hazy.

"Shit, I shot Abe, didn't I?" Hellboy groaned.

He opened his eyes again and looked from Broom to Patterson and then returned to Broom. He hoped against hope that one or the other of them would tell him that this memory was just his imagination—the product of a brain overwrought by the physical aftermath of his possession by that dark and powerful entity.

Neither man said anything and Hellboy closed his eyes again. "Damn."

Trevor Broom walked up to Hellboy's bed and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Son, as far as Abe or I can tell, you thought you were shooting at something out to harm you. You were already more than half possessed by that wretched entity and that just further confused your perceptions. It really is not your fault and, thank God, Abe was not badly injured. The very fact that you missed shooting anything vital at that point-blank range is, in my opinion, as much related to your true self fighting against this entity as to your bad sense of aim."

Hellboy looked up into Trevor Broom's face. "He's really not hurt that bad? You're not guffing me, are you, Pop?"

Broom shook his head, "It's his shoulder. He should be just fine in no time."

"Good," Hellboy sighed and then gently pushed Broom's hand away from his shoulder.

"Sorry, I need to be alone right now." Despite still being connected to some tubes and his bed being in an upright position, he managed to roll over onto his side and face the wall.

Hellboy stayed that way for hours. When Martha Wilson came in to change his IV bottles, he barely acknowledged her presence. She patted his shoulder, put the bed back down into a reclining position, dimmed the room lights, and went back out.

Some time later she returned, turned the lights back up a little, and adjusted the bed to make Hellboy sit back up. He blinked up at her in surprise.

"Hey, Marty, what'd you have to do that for? I was sleeping."

She fetched a chair closer to the bed and sat down. "So, tell me H.B., were you really sleeping?"

He groaned under his breath, "You know me too well. Of course, I wasn't sleeping."

Martha smiled, then reached out and took his left hand. "Do you know what day this is, H.B.?"

"Nah, I've lost track, you know." Realizing that Martha was interested in some sort of conversation, Hellboy pulled himself up straighter in the bed. "So, what day is it?"

"It's Thanksgiving," she said as she squeezed his hand, "You know how much your father loves to celebrate Thanksgiving, even though he's not American. I remember all those years you two lived here in Boston and how he knew I didn't have any family and would invite me to have dinner with you. I don't like the idea of him spending this special day apart from you like this."

"I don't feel much like celebrating right now, Marty." Hellboy tried to disengage his hand from hers and turn back to face the wall.

She squeezed his hand even harder, "I assume not, but it would do him a world of good if you tried. It's been almost five days since this all happened, you know. Over all that time, your father hardly ate or slept; his only thought was how happy he would be if whatever had a hold of you could finally be banished. Now, all he's doing is pacing up and down the corridor blaming himself for what happened."

Hellboy stopped her from saying anything further, "No, Marty, no, no. It was all my fault. Father and Abe were just doing their jobs. Me, I was being a big, stupid ass."

Martha stood back up, still holding on to his hand, "Look, H.B., maybe you were and maybe you weren't, but right now I don't think who's to blame is what's important. Trying to sort out why this all happened can wait. What is important is to let your father be with you on Thanksgiving. Its time that you ate a little real food, anyway, and it would really make his day to eat with you. Shall I go tell Trevor that you want him to join you for dinner?"

Hellboy slowly nodded. But rather than letting Martha go, he pulled her closer to the bed, grabbed her into a huge hug, and started to cry. As she held him tight, he began to sob harder and harder. After a long while, he finally wept himself out and let go of her.

"God, I hate when I do that," he snuffled, "It always makes my nose run." Martha handed him several Kleenex. As a good nurse should, she always had a supply of these on hand.

As Hellboy blew his nose, Martha was reminded of all the times the six-foot-tall Hellboy at 8 or 9 years old would come to weep on her shoulder after some argument or another with Trevor Broom.

The last time she recalled Hellboy being reduced to sobbing on her shoulder like this had been in 1959 when he was so panicked about his ill father's state of health. This unexpected storm of tears from the now seven-foot-tall, 34 year-old made her very much aware that whatever happened this past Sunday was definitely related to Hellboy's relationship with his adoptive father.

Hellboy blew his nose again and wiped his eyes. "Thanks, Marty. So, do we get to eat the turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce, like we did when Pop was hospitalized here back in '59."

"Your father can, but not you, H.B. You've got to stick with the bland stuff I'm afraid."

Hellboy made a face. "Bland. That means oatmeal, doesn't it? Don't care how much maple syrup you put in that crap, Marty, oatmeal still tastes like oatmeal."

Martha grinned at him on her way out of the room. "Yep, it's going to be oatmeal. And I hope lots of maple syrup will make it at least tolerable. I might be able to see my way to letting you have a little toast with marmalade and maybe just a few slices of bacon."

A few minutes later Trevor Broom came into the room. Hellboy slid over on his bed, leaving room for Broom to sit down on it. Neither said a word; Hellboy eventually leaned in toward Broom who took him into his arms and laid Hellboy's head on his chest. They had not sat together like this since Hellboy had been five years old and just small enough to still sit on Broom's lap.

Hellboy listened to his father's strong, steady heartbeat and again realized something that he had always known; his father would never, ever stop loving him no matter how big of an ass he was. Hellboy eventually raised his head and looked into Trevor Broom's face; he couldn't recall when he had ever seen his father look so peaceful.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Father."

Trevor Broom did not answer him; he just wrapped Hellboy in his arms even tighter. Hellboy laid his head back down on Broom's chest. Both father and son heaved a huge sigh of contentment.

About a half hour later Martha Wilson looked in and decided to wait just a little longer for dinner.

The food eventually did come. Hellboy noticed that Trevor Broom refused to eat anything more than what was allowed to him. At one point Hellboy started to feel very tired again and found eating difficult. Broom stopped eating his own oatmeal, or porridge as he called it, and picked up Hellboy's spoon and fed him. Hellboy was right about one thing; no matter how much maple syrup he dumped into it, oatmeal always tasted like oatmeal. After they were done eating, Broom drank some rather mediocre tea and Hellboy was allowed some very weak black coffee.

Hellboy decided to go back to sleep when this odd, but very happy, Thanksgiving dinner was over. Trevor Broom kissed his forehead and then sat down again in his chair and watched his son sleep. Eventually Broom fell asleep himself and drifted into a very odd dream, if dream it was.

_The room became very, very cold and filled with an inky black darkness. A voice came to Trevor Broom out of that darkness. _

**_"Human, do not think that you have won. I realize now that I must wait for the opportune time. I will be back for him; I will send others to get rid of you and I will take him." _**

_Broom sighed, "Yes, I know you will have me killed; I know you will take him. This will not matter; I will still win. I know this; I have seen it." _

**_"Bah, what power do you have that will defeat me, Human?" _**

_"The only true power in this Universe: Love. All you have is force; my love will overcome this." _

Broom suddenly sat up in his chair. "Begone, foul demon, you will never have my son."

_More to come..._


	20. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 15

**Author's notes:** This follows after Part Fourteen and we're going to find out what's up with Abe. For this to make sense read at least the parts after Part Nine. For those who have been following this: many thanks.

P.S. Please forgive me for the rather 'Abeless' sections recently. I usually don't plan what I'm going to write ahead of time and all this stuff about Hellboy's reaction to the recent crisis just came out. Sometimes I end up editing out stuff that gets too expansive, but these recent bits insisted on staying in.

Hellboy is still the main character of this fic and if I spend a little extra time on him, I believe that this focus is important. Frankly, the 'Hellboy' here is not exactly the 'Hellboy' of the movie; this 'Hellboy' is almost half the age of the character in the film and I feel it important to establish his personality and motivations. More Abe coming, I promise!

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Fifteen **

**Sunday Morning, November 26, 1978**

Trevor Broom and Hellboy prepared to depart the Boston facility to return to BPRD headquarters in Newark. They were to be transported to a nearby military base where a special plane awaited them.

Hellboy held his left hand out to Dr. Robert Patterson. "Bob, I once thanked you for saving my father's life; now I have to thank you for saving mine. I just wish Father Ed could have stayed around long enough for me to thank him too. I hope he has a good trip to Czechoslovakia."

Dr. Patterson shook Hellboy's hand and then pulled the big guy in for a hug. "Martha and I should be coming to see you in Newark sometime soon. We would love to spend some time with you and Trevor that's not filled with constant crisis. We are both looking forward to meeting this Abe that Trevor has told us so much about. He sounds so interesting."

Hellboy grinned ruefully. "He's certainly interesting, Bob. I'm glad there's something left of him for you to meet. I still can't believe I shot him while he was trying to save me from my own stupidity."

Hellboy turned toward Martha Wilson. "Just one more hug for the road, huh, Marty?" He swept her up into his arms so that her feet left the floor. He kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear, "Thanks for everything and I really mean everything, not just this past week. You've always been there when I needed you." He held on to the now speechless Martha for a very long time.

Broom placed a hand on Hellboy's shoulder. "Son, we need to depart soon. Robert, Martha, I can't thank you enough for everything you have done for us."

* * *

When they had arrived back to Newark, Hellboy was amazed that it had only been a week since they had left to go to Sheffield, Massachusetts; it seemed more like a century.

Some of his memories of that fateful Sunday were starting to become less hazy. Other memories he now realized would always remain blurry or totally blank. He had never been possessed by a demon before and never realized how much this kind of thing could scramble your brains. He had been more than relieved when he found out that his immense stupidity in not listening to Abe's warning that day cost neither Abe his life nor the lives of the boys he had been trying to rescue.

The only thing on his mind as he descended down into the BPRD's underground headquarters was how Abe was faring. He still could not believe that he had shot him. Whether he had been under the influence of that possessing entity or not, he just could not forgive himself for this.

As they entered into Section 51, Hellboy was desperate for information about Abe and wanted to make directly for the Medical Wing. But Trevor Broom stopped him from rushing immediately to the containment facility where Abe was now located; instead he ushered him into his office and made him sit down.

Broom drew up a chair and sat near Hellboy. "Son, I was so concerned this past week about your own status, that I failed to keep up as closely as I should have with Abe's condition. Certainly, when I last saw him he did not seem to be in critical condition and early contact with the medical personnel here seemed encouraging. I also spoke with Abe since his arrival here and he sounded quite well. But I would like to check on his current status before you go hastening in to see him."

Hellboy lowered his eyes, "You mean you want to find out if Abe _wants_ to see me."

Broom reached out and touched Hellboy's knee, "No, I do _not_ mean that; I mean that I wish to ascertain his current physical status to see if he is up to having a certain well meaning, but sometimes excitable, individual visiting him." Broom smiled as Hellboy looked up again.

"I am certain," Broom continued, "from Abe's own actions and words after this incident, that he harbors no ill-will toward you. He may have made certain jokes about your poor aim, but he has made it clear to me that he believes you had no idea what you were shooting at. I myself was blocked from seeing anything that was going on at the time, but I believe, along with Abe, the fact that you hit nothing vital is of great importance in understanding your actions in this event."

Broom squeezed Hellboy's knee affectionately, but then became more serious. "However, there is another topic that I believe needs to be addressed before you see Abe again. When we were in Boston, I felt it was the wrong time for unpleasant topics to be broached; now that your health is more stable, I believe we need to have a very serious talk about certain resentments you seem to have developed about Abe and his relationship with me."

Hellboy looked into Broom's face, which still had some bandages on the right cheek, and then lowered his eyes again, "Not now, Father; not yet," he almost whispered. "I'm not ready for this."

He looked up again at Broom and sighed. When he had been very small it had seemed a lot less frightening to receive the 'serious talk' while seated in Broom's lap being held in his arms; this was always such a reassurance that no matter how furious Broom was he still loved him.

Over the years Broom had proven to Hellboy time and again the depth of his love for his adopted son; losing Broom's love was no longer the issue. What now panicked Hellboy at times like this was the idea that his father still loved him but was disappointed in him; no matter how much older he became he could never deal with the possibility of this disappointment.

Broom waited; he did not force the issue. Hellboy got up and walked over to the round, open fireplace that was in the center of Broom's office and stared at the flames. He often found the warmth of this fireplace comforting, but not this time; this time the flames made him think of the place where he was supposed to have come from.

Even more disconsolate than before, Hellboy returned to Trevor Broom who was quietly waiting for Hellboy to allow him to continue. He did not look at Broom, nor did he resume his seat.

In an unexpected move, Hellboy turned away from Broom and sat on the floor with his back to him just to the left of his feet. Sitting cross-legged and scrunching down, Hellboy tucked his over-size right hand around his father's ankles and leaned his head against his knees.

"I'm ready now, Father," he said in a low voice.

Broom was incredibly moved by this; the only other time Hellboy had ever sat this way was when they lived in the small house in Washington, D.C. He had been due for a serious lecture about playing around in Broom's office and carelessly smashing one of his more important relics. He was only around six years old, but had by that time grown taller than Broom himself and had come to the reluctant realization that he would never be able to sit in Broom's lap for one of these talks again.

Now, some twenty-eight years later, as the seven-foot giant that his adopted son had become sat dejectedly at his feet, all of the stern lecture that Broom was planning whisked out of his head. Instead of speaking, he reached down with his left hand and massaged the back of Hellboy's neck, eventually feeling the tension that he had found there ease up.

"Son," Broom finally said, "jealousy is never a pretty emotion. The fact that you were harboring this emotion was something the entity possessing you was able to exploit, driving you into actions that you would never have performed when in your right mind. This time no permanent damage was done to any of us; the next time we may not be so lucky. Remember this; I have enough room in my heart to love you as much as I ever did and yet still care for another."

Broom still had his hand on the back of Hellboy's neck and felt him nod.

"On the other hand," Broom continued, "I realize that I have much to blame myself for in this. I now believe that I, no matter how inadvertently, began to spend too much time with Abe leaving you feeling left out. I also made the mistaken assumption that what resentment I had noticed would eventually pass away without my having to address it. I must beg your forgiveness for all of this. Let's continue developing our relationship with Abe, having learned something from this unfortunate series of events. We may find that our small family here is strengthened by the addition of another rather than weakened by it."

Hellboy nodded again.

"Good," Broom said squeezing Hellboy's left shoulder, "Let's go check on Abe."

* * *

They entered into the Medical Wing and made their way to the special containment facility that had been installed for any special care needed by Abe. It was a good thing that Broom had anticipated the possibility of the need for a facility like this. It made the sudden emergency care needed by Abe on November 19th a lot less confounding.

But as Broom and Hellboy found out upon their arrival to this facility, this did not necessarily make the medical care needed by Abe easy. There was just so much that they had yet to learn about this unique life form, Icthyo Sapien.

Hellboy had yet to see Abe's containment facility. Broom had seen it when it was originally installed and immediately noted the presence of several pieces of new equipment.

This included the tank that Abe was now floating in. It had two vertical green LED displays on either side with arcane symbols and numbers scrolling up. Hellboy walked up to this and looked at Abe who was all bandaged and wired up. He overheard Dr. Cobb speaking with Broom.

"I am sorry for all this extra expense, Professor, but we discovered rather quickly that the tank that was originally installed here was not adequate for keeping track of the chemical balance of the water, especially not the pH balance."

Broom moved to stand next to Hellboy and examined Abe while Dr. Cobb continued, "I do have to say that the emergency technicians who cared for him did an admirable job, but none of the bandages they used were waterproof. Until we could replace all of the bandages we had to keep him out of the water. He did not react well to this."

Broom turned back to Dr. Cobb, "Why is he unconscious now? I understand that his care may have been difficult, but he did not seem in this bad a shape when I last saw him."

"He is not exactly unconscious, but seems to have entered into a kind of hibernation to further the healing process. However, this hibernation is nothing like so deep as the suspended animation he was in when you first found him. I am sure that in some way he is very much aware that you are both here with him. The only thing we can do now is wait."

Broom turned toward Hellboy, "Son, it might be better if we left now. I am sure that Dr. Cobb will inform us when there is any change in Abe's condition."

Hellboy was still looking at Abe in the tank. "Father, I'd like to stay a little longer if it's OK with Dr. Cobb. I'll be really quiet and try not to be in the way."

Broom smiled slightly, "Well, if it's fine with Dr. Cobb, it's fine with me."

Unlike Dr. Roddel, Dr. Cobb liked Hellboy well enough and realized from what information he had gathered that Hellboy was not really responsible for his own actions when he shot Abe. He could also tell that the big guy felt plenty guilty about the whole thing.

He turned toward Hellboy, "You can stay as long as you want as long as things stay quiet."

"Thanks, Cobb," Hellboy said, still watching Abe closely. Broom nodded at Dr. Cobb and exited the containment facility.

After Broom left, Hellboy moved closer to Abe's special medical tank and placed his left hand on the glass. He stood for a long time not moving. Dr. Cobb went around checking status monitors.

After around an hour Hellboy sat down on the floor next to the tank, leaned his head against it, and closed his eyes. Dr. Cobb originally thought that Hellboy had gone to sleep, but then he could hear him muttering under his breath and realized that he was praying.

At first Dr. Cobb was surprised by this. He then recalled that Broom had raised Hellboy Catholic, even if the thirty-four year old monster hunter seldom overtly demonstrated any religious upbringing. Dr. Cobb moved away to give him more space.

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help or sought your intercession was left unaided. Inspired with confidence, I fly to you, O Virgin of virgins, my Mother. To you I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy, hear and answer me. Amen.

If Hellboy had muttered this prayer once, he must have muttered it fifty times. He was just planning on reciting it again when a voice inside his head interrupted him. "_Very nice sentiment, but don't you know any other prayers?"_

Hellboy, surprised, opened his eyes. "Abe?" he whispered. He looked up into the tank at the slender blue-gray figure floating there, still appearing unconscious.

"Who else do you think it would be, you big red monkey?"

"Didn't know you could talk like this." Hellboy stood up from the floor.

"It does take some effort, but I have had an immense amount of time to practice my mental exercises recently. You are the first that I have contacted quite so directly."

By this time Dr. Cobb had begun to realize that Hellboy was no longer praying, but seeming to talk to himself; it then came to him that Hellboy was conversing with the still unconscious Abe.

"Look, Abe," Hellboy continued, "I should've listened to you; won't make that mistake again. But you; you could've gotten yourself killed by running in that room after me. You should've just let the thing take me. It's as much as I would've deserved, anyway."

"You big red oaf, don't you understand that I care too much to let you get killed or taken? I have never forgotten you breaking me out of the research facility, or that first meal we had together. I just allowed myself to become jealous of you and…"

"Jealous of me?" Hellboy interrupted Abe in surprise, "Since when were you jealous of me? I thought I was the one being idiotic, not you."

"I must admit to feeling envious of your relationship with the Professor. It just seems so special and I felt a little left out. So I made myself feel superior by needling and teasing you."

Hellboy again pressed his left hand to the glass. "Pop has suggested that we just start all over again and I agree with him; let's be friends, huh, Blue?"

_"No, not friends, Red; brothers."_ To Hellboy's surprise Abe opened his eyes, floated closer to the glass front of the tank and placed his hand over his own.

"Good, works for me," Hellboy said and then walked out to tell Broom that Abe was awake again.

_More to come..._


	21. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 16

**Author's notes: **This follows after Part Fifteen. Won't make sense without the previous parts. I'm planning this more as a series of scenes showing the developing relationship between Hellboy, Abe and Broom, rather than necessarily a continuous narrative. Kate Corrigan is planning on reappearing at some later point, as are some of my original characters.

All of the rest of this 1978 section will be taking place in and around Newark and New York City between the beginning of December and New Year's Day of 1979.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Sixteen **

The physical ramifications of Hellboy's possession by the demon had been dire; he had almost died several times during his stay in the Medical Facility in Boston. But once his body decided to heal it was almost like nothing had ever happened. He always recuperated very quickly from all of his injuries and rare instances of illness.

Abe, on the other hand, even if never so close to death as Hellboy, took much longer to heal. In November he had to go through some reconstructive surgery on his shoulder joint and surgery to re-set a broken collarbone. After that came weeks of physical therapy to regain the use of, and to further strengthen, his injured shoulder.

Yet, no matter how physically slight Abe appeared, the fish-man proved to be remarkably resilient, both physically and emotionally. He determined to make good use of the extra time on his hands. He pursued various extra exercises to even further increase his physical strength in preparation for again going out into the field with Hellboy. He also expanded his mind by studying all sorts of texts on various subjects of interest.

One field of expertise that Abe decided to delve into was medicine. He read up as many texts as he could get his hands on dealing both with human medicine and veterinary science. He then studied all of the unique documents about himself and Hellboy. It was his intention to turn himself into the Bureau medic.

Abe hoped this would be of use for future Bureau missions that turned sour and agents were injured. It would save Trevor Broom the trouble of calling in EMTs and then having to go to the further trouble of debriefing them as to the nature of his operation. The calling in of outside help could then be reserved for only the direst emergencies.

With Trevor Broom's assistance Abe also began to teach himself all the major European languages. It amused Abe to notice that many of the textbooks he was using must have at one time belonged to Hellboy. He recognized the rather blocky handwriting that appeared in some of these textbooks as belonging to his 'older brother'. Abe pointed this out to Broom, wondering when this least studious of demons had ever used these books.

Broom smiled, "Yes, I am afraid my son does not appear as a paragon of studiousness, but he is actually very intelligent and one of his strongest fields of knowledge is foreign languages. Many of the European languages he knows well were taught to him in his teen years by the tutors I had hired for his education. Hellboy has an almost photographic memory; once he bothers to learn something he almost never forgets it."

Broom pointed out the copy Abe was holding of Beaumarchais's Le Mariage de Figaro. "Hellboy read this to me when I was in the early part of my hospitalization in 1959, translating on the spot from French into English."

Broom smiled at the old memory of pouring through the text together with Hellboy while confined to his hospital bed and waiting for news of his diagnosis. He recalled how pleased Hellboy had been with demonstrating what he had learned, how amused he had been with the antics of Beaumarchais's characters, and how grateful he was with any help that Broom could give him with words he was having difficulty with.

Broom still wondered at times what direction Hellboy would have gone in if his temperament had been more like his own; if most of Hellboy's strongest role models, outside of Broom himself, had not been the less-educated, if brave and loyal, military agents he had served with fighting against the Nazis in Argentina in the 1950s.

He began to wonder if Abe's influence on Hellboy might not be a good one. Maybe it might not be too late for his son to learn to love studying more.

By this time it was around the second week of December and Abe was still working his way through the major works of French literature. He had recently been spending a lot more time in Hellboy's company, especially hanging out in Hellboy's large room playing cards, watching television and movies, and learning to eat Chinese food with chopsticks.

There were still frictions between them, but 'Red' and 'Blue' had started to think of each other as 'brothers'— as 'family'. This made it easier to ignore these frictions and to grant forgiveness for, mainly unintentional, slights and insults. It also became much easier to recognize the difference between friendly teasing and bantering and true resentments.

Abe, being more even-tempered than the much more explosive Hellboy, found this all just a little easier. Abe had also come to realize that buried down underneath the big guy's often abrasive manner and sometimes-petty resentments was a true caring for him. Once Abe came to understand this, he found it much easier to ignore or defuse potentially irritating encounters.

Hellboy, once he had come to the understanding that Abe actually did think well of him, found it easier to see that what often seemed a supercilious affectation could just be discounted as Abe's usual manner of expression. Hellboy's anger at Abe seldom lasted very long and he tried not to let little annoyances build up into full-blown resentments.

One afternoon, several days after the conversation on languages with Broom, Abe was sitting at the large round metal table in Hellboy's room playing poker with him, which was always an interesting experience. Hellboy was not really a very good player and at one point angrily tossed all of his cards at Abe.

"Damn it, Blue, I quit. You're cheating. You've been reading my mind again. That's the only way that I can think of for you winning hand after hand." Hellboy got up from the table, relit the cigar in his mouth, and flopped himself down on the edge of his bed.

Abe picked up all of the cards that had fallen to the floor. "Look, Red, I promised you that I would never again read your thoughts without permission and I have stopped doing so. There's nothing psychic about it; all I need is my two eyes. When you have a bad hand you chew your cigar to bits and lash your tail back and forth; when you have a good hand you smoke your cigar really fast and curl your tail up tight. I can even tell when you're going to attempt to cheat: you squint and curl your tail up into a corkscrew."

Hellboy started to snicker, "Am I really that bad, Blue?"

"Yes, Red, you really are that bad," Abe said as he returned all of the cards to the cardboard box that they had come out of.

Hellboy fell back on the bed and roared with laughter, almost dropping his lit cigar onto the pile of blankets on the seldom-made bed. He sat back up and dropped the cigar to the cement floor of the room and stamped it out. "Can I help it if I wasn't born with your fish-face? You should play poker for a living. You could make a ton of money with a poker face like that."

He then got up to help Abe clean up the table. He tossed away remnants of food and drinks and swept the buttons they had been using for 'poker chips' back into the old wooden hinged-lid cigar box they had come out of.

He didn't even need to count up the buttons before returning them to the cigar box; it was obvious who had won more of these. This box had once belonged to Broom's grandfather, who enjoyed the occasional cigar and glass of brandy. It was he who had started to use the old box to collect up buttons and studs that had fallen from his shirts. Broom had kept the box of buttons for sentimental reasons after his grandfather had passed on and added his own buttons to the collection.

All of these saved buttons had certainly come in handy in the year after Hellboy's fifth birthday. Broom had resigned his position with the BPRD in order to keep sole custody of Hellboy and stop further drastic testing on him. By that time Hellboy was outgrowing his clothes on a daily basis and Broom used many of these buttons in sewing or altering his clothes in a desperate attempt to save money.

Hellboy himself had a sentimental attachment to this box. When he had been very small he used to play around with the box pretending that it was a pirate's treasure chest full of jewels and gold doubloons. After Broom had regained his position as director of the BPRD upon its relocation to Boston, he had let Hellboy take this box with him on field operations into Argentina in the mid-fifties.

Hellboy was close to his full height before he was not quite twelve years old and was already noted for his absolute formidability in the field by the older agents who supervised him. But that did not keep him from being dreadfully homesick when separated from Broom for months on end. The cigar box, buttons and all, went with him on every trip into Argentina until the final defeat of the Nazis in 1958. And it was there that he had learned, or at least attempted to learn, how to play poker.

On his final return from Argentina, Hellboy had returned the now scratched and dented cigar box to Broom. However, he never went out on a field operation after that without carrying several buttons for good luck secreted somewhere in the pouches of his utility belt along with his enormous gun, various talismans, and other weapons.

In recent years he had often brought out the box of buttons for friendly games of poker with the BPRD agents who served as his liaisons. After this absolute rout by Abe, he was beginning to wonder how many of these agents, fearing his temper, had let him win a few times just to keep him happy.

Hellboy laughed again as he tossed the last of the buttons into the old wooden box. He then dug into a pile of magazines on the floor next to an old couch, eventually retrieving the current issue of TV Guide. He tossed the magazine to Abe; "It's your turn to pick something for us to watch. Just no more educational crap, huh, Blue?"

"No more PBS Nova, Red? How about these re-runs of Columbo? Looks interesting."

Hellboy shrugged, "It's not a bad show. Pop always liked it and I used to watch it with him. The guy in it's kind of funny, but you know he's supposed to be based on that detective from Crime and Punishment."

"Really? You mean Dostoevsky?" Abe looked up from his perusal of the magazine, "How do you know that?"

"It's something I read in TV Guide back when the show was first on; I could see what they meant too."

Abe dropped the magazine in surprise. "You've read Crime and Punishment?"

Hellboy grinned so broadly that Abe began to suspect he was teasing him. "Sure, I read it when I was in Argentina—in Russian too."

"I know that the Professor told me that you were good with languages—but Russian? You're kidding me, right?"

"Learned it from a guy we all called Dmitri. Never did find out what his real name was. If there was one thing he hated it was Nazis. He continued working with Pop even after the end of the war when the Soviets weren't supposed to be our friends anymore. I got trapped with him in a cave on one trip; we both saved each other's lives. He taught me to speak Russian while we were waiting to get dug out and then taught me to read and write it later on that same trip."

Hellboy turned from Abe and went to one of the far corners of his room where he had a pile of old comic books and a stack of videotapes of his favorite movies. He dug through this down to an old cardboard box and dragged it out. Abe moved closer as Hellboy opened it and pulled out a few items carefully wrapped in cloth. He unwrapped one of these and it was a beautiful leather-bound edition, in Cyrillic, of this book. He opened it to an early page at random and read aloud to Abe, translating into English as he read.

_"He was so badly dressed that even a man accustomed to shabbiness would have been ashamed to be seen in the street in such rags. In that quarter of the town, however, scarcely any shortcoming in dress would have created surprise." _

Hellboy smiled up at Abe who stared at his 'brother' in amazement.

"Red, can you teach me to do that?"

Hellboy handed him the beautiful book, "Sure, Brother Blue, why not?"

_More to come…_


	22. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 17

**Author's notes: **This follows directly after Part Sixteen. Won't make sense without the previous parts. I've been dithering about point of view for this part and have decided to have point of view shift around a bit. Some of what is below derives vaguely from the original Mignola Hellboy comics Box Full of Evil and Right Hand of Doom and a smattering of the spin-off comic B.P.R.D.: A Plague of Frogs.

****

Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Seventeen

Trevor Broom had set up a large, round table in a quiet corner of his office for Abe to use while he was working on learning Russian. He had more room to spread out there than in his own private quarters. More and more often he had Hellboy use this table for his lessons rather than using Hellboy's more chaotic and often noisy room.

Abe never could figure out how Hellboy managed to concentrate on anything with the ten or fifteen different televisions that always seemed to be on. He had also learned the hard way that you don't ask the big guy to turn them off.

Abe began to understand that this constant chatter from these televisions was an attempt to fill up a silence that too often reminded Hellboy of his enforced isolation from that outside world he would much rather inhabit. Abe, who more often preferred silence, realized that in many ways his essential nature was much more like Trevor Broom's no matter how close or special Hellboy's relationship was with the man who loved him as a son.

On the other hand, preferring silence did not necessarily mean a preference for solitude. Abe found that this was something that bound all three of them together—a need to be part of a larger group where one could be accepted as different and yet still be an essential part of the whole.

This need was very much a part of Hellboy's nature even if he seldom overtly acknowledged it and Abe recognized that Hellboy had let him see this more vulnerable side of himself; a side that he showed to very few people outside of Trevor Broom. Abe found Hellboy spending more and more time in Broom's office with them and often enjoying the togetherness he found there.

Yet, over the last several days, Abe noticed a certain unpredictable impatience in Hellboy. He would end up picking some fight over nonsense with either Abe or Broom and then storm out of the office to sulk, refusing to speak to them about what was troubling him.

This was certainly making Abe's Russian lessons a bit on the chaotic side. He was having trouble enough learning a whole new alphabet, on top of dealing with a language whose nouns in general needed twelve different endings depending on placement in the sentence and whose adjectives could take twenty-four different endings; it was not helping Abe's confusion with all these different endings to have Hellboy fly off into some temperamental outburst just because he had dared to ask _why_ this had to be so.

"Why?" Hellboy groaned, "Who the hell cares about why? Just memorize the goddamn pattern."

Abe sighed, looked at his paper, and tried again.

"I am a student. _Ya student. _I love the student. _Ya lyublyu studenta. _The student has a textbook. _U studenta est uchebnik. _I call the student. _Ya pozvonyu studenta_."

"No! No! No!" Hellboy shouted, "_Ya pozvonyu studenty. Studenty_!_ Studenty_!_ Studenty_! If you don't memorize this crap, Abe, you'll never learn it. It doesn't need to make sense."

Trevor Broom looked up from his work. "Son, I see no need to shout at Abe like that."

Hellboy glared at Broom, looking like he wanted to say something further. He then shrugged, turned away, and walked out of the office.

Abe, who was still seated at the table, put down the paper he had been attempting to translate from and got up from the table. "That's the third time in almost as many days that something like this has happened, Professor. What's up with the big lummox, anyway?"

Broom stood up from his chair and stretched. "I'm not sure, Abe. He seems to be worried about something but he won't talk about it. I don't think it's anything about us. I think it's time I just went and asked him what it is. You can stay here and study more or return to your aquarium; whichever you prefer."

Broom walked out in search of Hellboy. He first went to his room, but Hellboy wasn't there. Broom eventually located him on the roof that overhung the entranceway to the building that was the aboveground portion of the Bureau main headquarters. Broom stood in the fire-exit door that lead on to the roof and watched Hellboy for some time before walking out on to the roof.

It was now just after sunset and the sky all around was still tinged with the fire of the sun's last light. Hellboy was seated, legs dangling over the edge of the overhang, facing the gated entrance to the BPRD's secret compound. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he had not heard Broom's approach until he sat down next to him on his right side.

"Father," Hellboy said in a low voice without turning towards him. Broom could sense in that one word and the tone in which it was spoken that there was something definitely troubling this unique individual he loved as much as any father could love a son of his own body. He hated prying when Hellboy was reluctant to share his concerns, but this time felt he needed to know.

They sat together in silence watching the light fade slowly from the sky. It had been a relatively warm day for December, but now the warmth that had come from the sun was dissipating. Broom shivered slightly and Hellboy sensed this.

"Look, Pop, I can tell that you're starting to feel cold. Go on back in and tell Abe I'm sorry I snapped at him like that. I'll be all right; just need to think some things out."

Broom looked up at Hellboy. He was avoiding looking at Broom and was instead gazing intently at some distant point on the horizon as if he could find all his answers there.

"Son, I'm not that cold and plan on sitting here until you are willing to talk to me." Broom was wearing a tweed jacket over his shirt and wool vest. He pulled the jacket closer and patiently waited for some response from Hellboy.

After a long while, Hellboy looked down at him and laughed. "Jeez, Pop, you can be damn stubborn, you know that?"

He gently pulled Broom closer with that mammoth right hand of his and wrapped him up in a part of his tan-colored leather coat. Broom smiled up at Hellboy, enjoying both the warmth to be found in snuggling next to him and the affection he heard in his voice. "I prefer the word persistent, Son; I can be persistent when I feel the need. Please tell me what is bothering you. It might help to speak of it."

Hellboy looked out into the gathering gloom of dusk and held Broom tighter. He took a deep breath, "Father, I don't like not knowing who I really am. I don't remember much of what happened when I was possessed, but I do remember a horrible voice and some of what it said. You've been the best father a guy like me could ever hope for and I've always wanted to think of myself as your son. But once in a while something like this shoves my real origins in my face and it's hard to pretend anymore."

Broom seized Hellboy's left hand. "Son, there's nothing 'pretend' about what I feel for you. You are my son and no entity claiming to be your 'real' father is going to take you from me."

Hellboy shook his head. "I'm not sure that answer's good enough anymore."

He gently squeezed Broom's hand in his before he continued. "I've been having this strange dream lately. I go to visit this priest I've never met before and he hands me this weird little piece of parchment. It's got all these strange markings and a drawing of something that kind of looks like my right hand. It's also got something written in Old Lemurian on it that translates into 'Behold the Right Hand of Doom'. The priest looks at me with this sad face and says 'I am afraid that it is your burden, my son, your curse.' That's when I wake up."

Broom attempted to look into Hellboy's face, but in the now quickly gathering darkness it was hard to read his expression. "I will continue to call you 'Son' until the last day I draw breath. Have faith in my love for you. I wish you trusted me as you did when you were young."

Hellboy abruptly stood up from his seated position on the roof's edge and pulled Broom to his feet into a tight embrace. "God knows I have plenty of faith and trust in you, Father. It's myself I don't have faith in and I feel like there's this whole part of my own body I can't trust."

Broom gently interrupted him, "Tell me, Son, do you trust Abe?" Hellboy nodded. "Why ever would you trust some odd creature whose origins are as mysterious as your own?"

"We shouldn't distrust him until give us a reason," Hellboy replied as they walked toward the building and Broom pulled open the fire-exit door.

"Exactly so, Son. We should look upon him as having a clean slate and only take into consideration those acts he performs now in this life. You should give yourself that same benefit of the doubt," Broom said as they walked back into the building. Just as they entered the code red alarms all went off.

Hellboy suddenly smiled. "Well, I guess there's still some work for this old right hand of mine. I think Abe's up to going with me again. What do you think, Pop?"

"Yes, I do believe that it is time he started going out with you again."

_More to come..._


	23. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 18

**Author's notes: **This follows directly after Part Seventeen. Won't make sense without the previous parts.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Eighteen**

Hellboy and Trevor Broom descended back down into that part of the underground facility that comprised Section 51 of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense.

By this time the code red alarms had stopped sounding. Rather than proceeding directly to the room where field operation briefings were usually held, Broom first went to his office to look up Abe and ask him to join them for the briefing.

Hellboy went to his room to collect his gun, utility belt, and other talismans that he thought important to always have with him. Other agents would later come into his room to retrieve the rolling munitions cases that held his extra bullets and other weapons.

Hellboy exited the room, but then turned back and rifled through the button-filled cigar box that was still sitting on his table. He shoved a small handful of buttons and old-fashioned shirt studs into one of the pouches of his utility belt and departed for the briefing room.

Between Hellboy's earlier conversation with Trevor Broom and the prospect of a new monster to fight, he again felt filled with excitement and self-confidence. Hellboy came anew to the insight that, regardless of his origins, he had been raised up to be a protector of humanity and had been capably filling that role for over twenty years.

He also realized that with the advent of fish-man Abe Sapien he now had a new partner to join him in protecting these humans who had come to mean so much to him over the years. Life suddenly seemed very good to Hellboy again.

Grinning in anticipation as he walked down the corridor, he pulled a cigar stub out of one of the pouches of his belt and stuck it in his mouth. He then fished a beat up looking Zippo lighter out of a pocket of his coat and used this to light the cigar. He puffed on this for the few minutes that it would take to reach the briefing room.

When Hellboy arrived to the room, he ground out the lit cigar against the cement wall of the corridor and stuffed the stub back into the pouch that it had come out of. Trevor Broom, who was already seated at the large conference table with Abe and several BPRD agents, looked up as Hellboy walked in and was pleased to note an unquestionable change from his previous melancholy. He also noted the smell of tobacco that had followed Hellboy into the room.

Broom, a non-smoker himself, had always disapproved of Hellboy's smoking. But, on the other hand, he also took a very secret pleasure in the faint smell of cigar smoke that always permeated Hellboy's clothing and private room; it reminded Broom of his grandfather who had been the original owner of the cherished wooden cigar box.

Lee, the FBI liaison, was seated to Broom's left at the table. Hellboy noticed that his own usual seat to Broom's right side was where Abe was now seated. There was a time when something like this would have made him very angry—made him feel that Abe was attempting to usurp his position. However, recent events had caused Hellboy to look at Abe in a new light and he now understood that Broom was merely making Abe feel welcome as a full member of his team.

Hellboy grinned at a somewhat nervous-looking Abe and went around the table to sit next to Lee, who surprised him by standing before he could sit down and grabbing him into a fiercely tight hug.

"Damn it, Hellboy," Lee growled, "I can't even go off on vacation without you almost up and dying on me before I can get back. The next time you try that I'll kill you myself."

Hellboy smiled and leaned in closer as he returned the hug. "Next time, I'll try really, really hard to get myself possessed when you're not on vacation, Uncle Lee," he whispered to the man he had known almost as long as he had known Trevor Broom.

At this Lee hugged Hellboy even tighter; Hellboy hadn't called him 'Uncle' in over twenty years.

Hellboy pulled away and sat down in his seat. "Let's cut the mushy crap and get back to business."

He looked over at Trevor Broom, "Well, Pop, what is it this time? Hope it's something interesting. I'm ready for some real action and I think Abe is, too."

"Rats," was Broom's only answer as he looked over some papers in front of him.

"Rats? You mean like those ugly black things with tails that I see every time I have to chase some monster down subway tunnels or smelly sewers? Those kind of rats?"

"Not exactly, Son. These rats are extremely large and aggressive. Those who have seen them describe them as almost five or six feet tall and walking on their hind legs like a human being with coal-black hides and yellow glowing eyes. Mainly these creatures have just appeared suddenly out of manholes in various sections of Manhattan frightening people and then ducking back under the streets again. However, for some reason they have grabbed a young waitress and another unknown woman from a restaurant and dragged them down below the streets."

Broom pushed over a photograph toward Hellboy.

"The waitress's name is Mindy Carlton. For some strange reason this woman looks vaguely familiar to me, but I can't think of where I might have met her before."

Hellboy glanced at the photograph on the table, but then, with a gasp of surprise, picked it up in his left hand and looked at it much more closely. He then startled everyone by slamming the photograph back down on the table. "Pop, I think we've got real trouble here. I know this woman. Remember the 'poltergeist-in-the-library' job I did on Halloween? She's one of the waitresses from the restaurant where the party I wasn't supposed to be attending was held."

Broom snatched up the photograph and looked at it again. "Damn! No wonder she looked familiar. I think she was working in the restaurant the day I went to arrange everything."

Abe reached over and took the photograph from Broom. He closed his eyes in concentration and then opened them again in surprise. Reaching out he grabbed Broom's hand. "These creatures know exactly what they are doing, Professor. They are trying to get Hellboy's attention. But I'm picking up something further here. I think I know who the other woman they took is: Kate Corrigan."

Hellboy jumped up from his seat, knocking it over backwards. "Katie? My Katie?" he shouted, "Where are you getting that from, Blue?"

Abe shrugged, "It's just a strange feeling I'm picking up from this photograph of the waitress."

Hellboy picked up the chair he had knocked over and then went around the table to where Broom was sitting staring at Abe who was still holding the photograph. "Pop, you told me Katie's been in Hungary doing research since right after Halloween and that you decided not to get her all worried about what was up with me by trying to contact her. Is she back from that trip yet?"

Broom shook his head. "Not that I know of. But there's one way to find out. I'll call NYU and see if she has returned recently."

He went over to a phone, dialed into the department at NYU where both he and Kate taught folklore occasionally, and asked the department secretary if she knew if Kate had returned to New York. As Hellboy watched Trevor Broom listen to the answer and turn very pale, he realized that he was not going to like the answer his father was going to give to his question.

_More to come…_


	24. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 19

**Author's notes: **This follows directly after Part Eighteen. A reminder: this is taking place sometime in the middle weeks of December of 1978.

_P.S.: Sorry this update has taken so long. I've had lots of ideas, but not much of an idea how to write them down._

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Nineteen**

Hellboy had been correct: he did not like the answer that his father had received about Kate Corrigan's return to New York.

Frankly, 'not like' was a bit of an understatement. Hellboy was both panicked and angry: panicked at the idea that something just might happen to 'his Katie' and furiously angry that these paranormal interlopers would dare to go after people he knew. Hellboy was well aware that it was no coincidence that these creatures had, out of all of the millions in New York City, seized upon two out of the very small number of people in the city he was acquainted with.

Trevor Broom, Hellboy, Abe, Lee, and the other BPRD agents made their way up from the underground facility to the garages that contained the garbage trucks and other vehicles they used for transport. Just as they arrived Trevor Broom pulled Abe aside.

"Not that I blame him," Broom whispered to Abe, "But I'm not completely comfortable with Hellboy's mood. Kate Corrigan means a lot to him and for some reason that I'm not completely aware of he also seems to have some attachment to this waitress. Do me a really big favor and keep him on track. I don't want him doing anything stupid. He does have a tendency at times to let his emotions run away with him. He may appear invincible, but as we have learned recently he is not as indestructible as he would like to think he is."

Abe just nodded and went to join Hellboy. As they proceeded to climb up into the garbage truck they usually used for transportation, Lee stopped them.

"Hellboy, we both have known Katie a long time. She may not work directly with us, but she does know how to handle herself out there. I'm not saying that it's not going to be dicey, but things may not be as desperate as they appear."

Hellboy smiled slightly for the first time since finding out who the giant rat-like creatures had taken, but before he could think of anything to say in reply, Lee gestured for Hellboy and Abe to follow him to the part of the garage where spare vehicles were kept. Trevor Broom followed as well, wondering what Lee was up to. They stopped in front of very large, obviously brand-new, garbage truck.

Hellboy stared in amazement at the sheer size of this vehicle as Lee continued speaking. "I found that the damn FBI was not about to pitch in money for a new, more comfortable, means of transportation for you. So, I pulled in some favors from friends of mine, got the truck specially designed and equipped, and basically paid for the thing with my own money. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but I figure now is as good a time as any to break the thing in."

Hellboy stopped staring at the truck and turned to stare, speechless, at Lee and then turned to whisper to Trevor Broom. "Pop, did you know about this?"

Broom, who was as speechless as Hellboy, just shook his head.

Lee, pretending to ignore the exchange that had just occurred between Broom and Hellboy, opened up the front cab of the enormous truck and pushed a button that caused the back end doors to open so that Hellboy and Abe could enter the gleaming vehicle.

"Most of the installed equipment is self-explanatory. There is also a place to strap in and secure your rolling munitions cases and a place for Hellboy to sit that is going to be a lot more comfortable than the bench that was in his old truck. However, knowing how restless Hellboy can be, this truck has been designed so that he can stand and walk around without knocking the equipment over or be crowded by the tank and first-aid equipment installed for Abe's use."

Lee raised his hand as Hellboy turned toward him again. "I remember Katie's father Richard Corrigan, remember how excited he was when his wife gave birth to a little baby girl, remember how you got Katie through the trauma of her father's illness and death at a time when you had enough on your plate just dealing with Trevor's own illness. I don't need any thanks from you for the new truck. Just find Katie and get her back; that's all I ask."

* * *

Since they were not going to be traveling very far, Abe decided to forgo entering into the tank in the truck. Both he and Hellboy moved around the interior of the new vehicle admiring all of the specially designed equipment. Hellboy realized that most of this equipment was way over his head and left it for Abe to figure all this stuff out. Hellboy just enjoyed having some real space to stretch out in and a comfortable seat. He had pulled back the panel that covered over a long two-way mirrored window and looked out at the passing scenery; he loved finally being able to see out as he traveled.

After a short while he sighed and yanked the panel closed; at one time he would have been absolutely fascinated with this window that he could see out of, but no one on the outside could see anything but a mirrored logo for Squeaky Clean Waste Management Services. Right now the only thing on his mind was a way to get Katie and Mindy, the waitress, away from the creatures who had seized them.

Abe, who was sitting in another smaller chair designed for his more slender frame, watched Hellboy and wondered just how close this relationship with 'his Katie' was.

Abe had yet to meet Kate Corrigan. But when he had earlier been playing a somewhat childish game of reading other people's thoughts, he had come to the realization that Hellboy's feelings for Kate were going through some sort of upheaval that even Hellboy was not completely certain of. At that time Abe had sensed distinct 'big brother' feelings that were still very prominent mixed up with a more recent recognition of a newfound sexual attraction toward his no-longer-so-little 'sister'.

He would really have liked to know exactly what was running through Hellboy's mind right now, but had promised him that he would never again read his thoughts without permission or an emergency need-to-know crisis. But neither did he want to come right out and ask him; it was not difficult to tell that Hellboy was very troubled and prying might just be an invitation for another temperamental outburst; these outbursts had become all too frequent recently even without the stress of someone he obviously cared for being endangered.

Hellboy got up from his seat and stretched. They were heading for that part of New York City's Greenwich Village that was near NYU main campus and he had a good idea, having very occasionally visited his father or Kate there, how long it would take to arrive from Newark.

He moved to another part of the truck that had a bench for other occupants to sit on if more people needed to be transported in the back of the truck. He sat on it and if he hadn't been so upset he would have laughed; even this bench was ten times more comfortable than the one that had plagued him for so long in his old truck. To Abe's surprise Hellboy indicated for Abe to come and join him.

"Great truck, huh, Blue?" Abe knew that Hellboy was avoiding what was really bothering him.

"Yes, Red, this is certainly an impressive vehicle. I am most impressed with the extent of equipment that has been installed and with the fact that the entire vehicle has been designed for retrofitting as new equipment is developed; no expense has been spared in its development."

Abe looked closer at the despondent red giant sitting next to him; he noticed that Hellboy was avoiding looking at him and that there were at least a dozen conflicting emotions radiating so strongly from Hellboy that no amount of mental shielding could block them.

"Okay, now that we have sufficiently admired our new and improved chariot why don't you tell me what you really wanted to talk to me about?" Abe inquired after a long moment of silence.

"I didn't say anything to Pop because I don't want him to worry, but I don't like the way this thing is going down, Blue," Hellboy said, still not looking at him. "Usually an operation this simple, checking out a bunch of creatures who have mostly just been frightening people without really hurting them, is not handled by sending out the big guns right off the bat."

Hellboy turned toward Abe and looked directly at him for the first time. "Why do I have the nasty feeling that I'm what they're really after and they've taken hostages to make sure I show up?"

Abe pondered this statement. "Yes, I agree; it does look as if these creatures were trying to attract your attention by seizing women you have some emotional investment in."

Hellboy, using his normal-sized left hand, opened and groped around in one of the pouches of his utility belt. He removed a turquoise and gold-plated shirt stud. Leaning forward he managed in an odd, one-handed way to attach this to the collar of Abe's tight-fitting spandex shirt in a place where the back of the stud would not irritate Abe's skin.

Abe looked at the stud, admiring its delicate beauty, intending on asking Hellboy the purpose of this gesture. He looked up at Hellboy, who had an odd, distant expression as if recalling something from the past, but Abe then looked back down in surprise at the stud.

He had first noticed these studs when he and Hellboy had played poker using Professor Broom's collection of old shirt buttons as chips, but it was not until this moment that he realized that this old-style shirt fastening had a odd familiarity; the familiarity of an item that Abe had lived with every day at some time in his past.

Abe had never spoken to anyone except Professor Broom about the vague, disjointed memories he had of a life he had lived as a human male before he metamorphosed into the being he was now. What memories had broken through, mainly in dreams and nightmares, gave Abe the distinct impression that the man he used to be was not someone to be proud of. He kept reminding himself that Professor Broom was willing to accept him unconditionally as he was now, totally discounting an unremembered life he may have led over a century ago.

All of these thoughts had passed through Abe's mind very quickly. But Hellboy, noticing a slight hesitation when Abe contemplated the unexpected bestowing of this item, reached out with his left hand and touched Abe's shoulder. "If you don't like it, I can take it back."

"No, actually I find the item quite attractive and am just curious as to the meaning of this gift." This wasn't exactly a lie on Abe's part; he had been intending to inquire on this point before the unexpected and unpleasant encroachment of a nebulous, barely recalled past life.

Hellboy smiled for the first time since entering the truck. "It kind of makes you officially my partner. I'm hoping that it will bring you good luck, too."

Abe smiled back, fingering the stud as another memory broke through of a distinguished, kind-hearted gentleman—probably Professor Broom's grandfather, the original owner of the shirt stud. This glimpse of the man who had meant so much to Professor Broom helped to dispel some of the unease that Abe had felt when originally receiving the gift.

"So, Red, how many 'official' partners have had this honor bestowed on them?"

"Just one—Dmitri, the guy who taught me Russian. I've had plenty of colleagues who have become good friends, Blue, but no one ever came closer than you to what I shared with him. And he always claimed that it was the good luck from that shirt stud that saved his life more than once in Argentina."

"What happened to him?" Hellboy's attachment to the memory of this Russian man impressed Abe.

"What else? He went back to Russia after the final defeat of the Nazis in '58 and someone there eventually found out about his connection to the Bureau. Unfortunately, no amount of 'luck' from my buttons could save him from a concentration camp in Siberia. I guess he died there. He must've had an inkling of what was going to happen, because he managed to sneak out a package to me; that's how I ended up with those books in Russian I've been teaching you to read."

Hellboy stood up and pulled open the panel over the window and looked out.

"Well, Brother Blue, we're almost there. Let's see if we can't start coming up with some plans to get Katie and Mindy away from those monsters."

_More to come..._


	25. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 20

**Author's notes: **This follows directly after Part Nineteen.

**Reminder**: Kate Corrigan is derived from Mike Mignola's original Hellboy comics, but I am solely to blame for how she is being used in Hellboy's Family. The waitress, Mindy Carlton, is one of the original characters I have created for this story. The idea of talking rats was suggested by a short story based on Hellboy, but the creature here is not at all like the talking rat in that story.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty **

Kate Corrigan struggled against the cords that held her tightly bound to an uncomfortable wooden chair. She was neither blindfolded nor gagged. As she struggled she looked around the brightly lit, but dank and smelly underground room where she was now confined.

She came to the conclusion that she must have been drugged at some point. She remembered being grabbed, along with the young waitress who had been serving her, out of a diner near the university where she occasionally taught classes on folklore. But she could not recall how she got to this room and felt as if her head was filled with cotton. Her memory of the non-human creatures that had seized her was also somewhat incoherent.

As she looked around she became aware of the sniffling sound of someone trying to hold back tears. It came from somewhere behind her back and she tried to crane her head around to look. Her dark blond hair, which she had allowed to grow longer while away conducting research in Hungary, had partially fallen into her face during her struggles and she was unable to push it back out of her eyes. This made it even harder to see what was going on.

"Mindy, is that you behind me?" Kate whispered, wishing she knew where she was being held and whether or not she was being observed by whatever had grabbed her away from her early supper.

"What's happening to us, Professor Corrigan? I'm…" Mindy shuddered and stopped to take a breath, "I'm so scared," she finally gasped out in a tiny whisper. She began to cry harder, almost hysterically.

"Shh, Mindy, not so loud. We need to talk, but we need to be really quiet. I have no idea if whoever or whatever dragged us off is listening or not." Sooner than Kate expected she heard Mindy's strangled sobs calm to a few sniffles.

"Good. First, if I remember correctly, even though I didn't notice that closely at the time, weren't you one of the waitresses working the bar at a special Halloween party I attended? I was there dressed as a Romanian gypsy complete with authentic costume, gaudy makeup, and a long, curly black wig."

Kate heard Mindy stop sniffling and suck in her breath before answering. "Yeah, Professor, I remember that party. The guest of honor was certainly an interesting guy. I don't usually work that restaurant except for special events where Dad needs extra help. You know that my father owns the diner near NYU where I wait tables, but he also works as the special events manager for that other restaurant. I did notice the gypsy who was, um, a bit chummy with the 'guest of honor', but the wig and makeup threw me off; I never recognized you, Professor."

Even in the midst of her trepidation, Kate had to smile at the memory of that Halloween party and the several passionate kisses she had shared with the 'guest of honor'; she had certainly become 'chummy' with Hellboy in a way that was very different from their decades-long friendship.

Kate dragged her attention back to Mindy and their current predicament. "Second, I want you to stop calling me 'Professor'; call me 'Kate'. When people call me 'Professor' it always makes me feel so damn old and I can't be much more than five or six years older than you are."

"Tell me, Professor, I mean Kate, what's going on here? Is this somehow related to that Halloween party? I don't really remember much about the people who kidnapped us, but what I do recall seems like something out of some nightmare. When I try to think back on it I keep remembering giant rats."

"Same here," sighed Kate. "And I'm afraid it may be related to that party, or at least to the guest of honor. I noticed that the waiters and waitresses kept their distance from him until he decided to thank them when the party was coming to an end. At that time you were the only one of them who spoke to him and, along with me, you were the only younger woman he kissed in some way. I can't help thinking that maybe these creatures are using us to get at him."

"Is he someone these creatures would want to get at, Kate? We were paid a lot of extra money to work the party in a way that would keep everyone happy, and yet, at the same time, keep us as far away as possible from the guest of honor. I just assumed since there was no guest list with names and we only allowed people with invitations that the guest of honor was some unidentified celebrity."

"Now, 'celebrity' is a very interesting term, would you not agree?" interrupted a very cultured, almost British sounding, male voice.

Kate and Mindy both looked around to see who had addressed them as this voice continued.

"It mainly refers to someone who people would wish to 'celebrate' for some reason. But, somehow, I don't think people would want to fête him if they truly knew what was hidden within that interesting red costume he wears. For his exterior appearance really is a kind of costume even if he can never actually remove it. Even he himself is basically unaware of what is hidden beneath that costume, although he already suspects that the reality will be an unpleasant one when it is finally revealed."

Kate became aware of a figure that had suddenly appeared in the brighter light directly in front of her. She was more than used to non-human creatures and just looked without comment or fear at the giant rat that stood erect before her. It had glowing yellow eyes, but these eyes were actually nothing similar to Hellboy's yellow-colored eyes; certainly not the eyes Kate saw when Hellboy looked at her.

What bothered Kate the most was that this sleek rat's black-pelted body was oddly dressed in a perfectly immaculate dark-brown three-piece suit, complete with a matching fedora hat. This mode of dress and the voice the creature spoke in made it distinctly appear like a rat-like version of Trevor Broom, being just about his 5' 11'' height; the main difference being that this odd creature smoked a cigarette in an ivory holder elegantly held in its hand-like forepaw. Kate wondered to herself if the similarity to Hellboy's adoptive father was intentional on its part.

Whiskers tickled her ear as the creature bent over, "Oh, yes, my dear, quite intentional," it whispered.

The giant rat then moved around behind Kate and revealed itself to Mindy who gasped in dismay.

"Ah, I see that you are not as aware of the existence of 'horrific monsters' as is your acquaintance. And yet you have interacted with this big, red fellow; even allowed him to kiss your cheek. Did you really think he was nothing more than a big guy in a funny red costume?"

Mindy unexpectedly found herself angry instead of afraid and stopped shaking. "I know exactly what I thought, and still think, of him; he is nothing more or less than a great guy whose father cared enough to want to give him and his close friends the best Halloween party his money could buy."

"Actually," the rat sighed, "in a way you are most correct. But the human male who calls himself his 'father' and those humans who call themselves his 'colleagues' and 'friends' are deluded if they think he can forever evade his destiny. For in reality he is nothing less than a betrayer of his own kind."

"And what, exactly, is my brother's 'own kind', pray tell?" interrupted a new voice.

"Oh, my," said the rat who had shifted to confront the newcomer, "A talking fish, how quaint."

Kate looked in surprise at the fish-man who had suddenly risen up in front of her. Even though she had never seen him before, she immediately recognized the Bureau-issued clothing and equipment this oddly attractive stranger wore on his slender, blue-gray body.

"I think I've been away from the Bureau for far too long," she muttered to herself.

_More to come…_


	26. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 21

**Author's notes: **This follows after Part Twenty, but flashes back to after Part Nineteen. This won't make sense without the previous parts. In her excellent review to Part Twenty 'Shadowcat' asked the important question: How did Abe manage to get to where Kate and Mindy were being held? I hope what I write below makes sense.

The diner near NYU is fictional, but is typical of that area of Greenwich Village. Currently a Duane Reade drug store is at that location. The pub/steakhouse where Broom would have had the Halloween party earlier for Hellboy is also fictional. I have no idea what was in these locations in 1978. I'm working on the assumption that NYU's academic calendar in 1978 is similar to what it is now.

Some of the technology I mention would be possible in 1978. However, dealing with NYC's underground structures, I'm just winging it and would hope that what I write about the Old and New Croton Aqueduct systems is at least plausible. The basic information about the route of the aqueducts and their structures is factual; the rest is made up.

_(Reminder: Even though my stories are mainly based on the movie, Abe here is slightly more 'comicverse' and does not need respirator or goggles.)_

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty-One **

About fifteen minutes ahead of their arrival, Trevor Broom used his car phone to place a call to the diner near NYU that Kate Corrigan and Mindy Carlton had been seized from. This phone used a special military channel, so that calls made with it were more secure from surveillance; but Broom still felt the need to be circumspect in his conversation.

The man who picked up the phone at the diner must have been practically standing right on top of it.

_"Walter Carlton speaking. I'm the owner and manager of the Emerald Diner. I've already closed the place down as the FBI requested and have been awaiting a phone call. I hope this is it." _

"This is Professor Trevor Broom, director of a special agency related to the FBI. We are sent in to investigate cases that, due to their unusual nature, conventional law enforcement has difficulty dealing with. We should be arriving soon. Please, do not be startled by some of the agents who will be with me. Their unique attributes and abilities are of supreme importance in cases like this."

_"Look, Mindy's not just a waitress at my diner; she's also my daughter. I don't care who you bring, or what you do; just get her back from those horrible creatures."_

"I certainly understand how devastating this must be for you, Mr. Carlton. My agents and I will do everything we can to ensure your daughter's safe return. Make sure your restaurant is cleared of all but the most necessary of personnel. It is always better that my more unique agents be seen by as few as possible. I hope you have left undisturbed any personal items your daughter or Professor Corrigan may have left behind at the table the moment they were seized. These items may be important in tracking them down."

_"As the FBI requested, I have left everything undisturbed. Outside of the agents who arrived earlier, there is no one here except me. I sent my other help home until further notice. But I really don't see how those few items left at Professor Corrigan's table can help you find them."_

"I assure you, I have an agent who should be able to use these items. He has not been working for me for very long, but has already proven more than capable. In addition, your daughter has already met my most experienced agent at a party where she tended bar. He is my chief field operator as well as my adopted son and I had arranged this party as a Halloween gift for him."

_"Yes, Professor, I do recall such a party. Even though I did not arrange the reservation, I am the special events manager for that restaurant. This is why Mindy was there that night; she often helps out at these parties. I recall the party being arranged and paid for by a 'Frank Redford' of Brooklyn and 'Frank, Jr.' being the guest of honor. However, certain stipulations set for the wait staff had given me the impression that those names may have been aliases. Mindy later told me how impressed she was with the costume your son wore and with the fact that he was only addressed as that character." _

"My son did enjoy that party very much, Mr. Carlton. For a variety of reasons, that are too manifold to go into at this time, I had never given him a party like this in the past and will probably never be able to do so again. Professor Corrigan is a very close friend of my son's and was also attendant at that party. My son knows very few people outside of his colleagues in my agency, of which Professor Corrigan's late father had worked as a consultant in my son's youth. Even though he has said little to me on this matter, I believe my son is concerned that these creatures may have had some ulterior motive in their actions."

_"Are you suggesting that your son would hesitate going after these creatures out of fear that they may have seized my daughter and his friend as a trap for him?" _

"If you knew my son as well as I do, Mr. Carlton, you would know his actions would be exactly the opposite of what you infer; nothing infuriates him more than when defenseless people are threatened. And if it is friends or acquaintances of his that are being threatened, that just makes him all the more determined; regardless of any danger to himself. I can assure you that my son and his colleagues will risk everything to rescue your daughter and Professor Corrigan."

Trevor Broom turned aside from his phone conversation to address the agent driving him.

"Mr. Carlton," he continued after he had done so, "I must bring this call to an end. We are approaching Washington Square Park and will soon turn onto West Fourth. I sometimes teach at NYU and am familiar with this area. I know that your restaurant is on the corner of Broadway and West Fourth, but the FBI has informed me that there is an employee-only rear entrance on Mercer Street. We will be utilizing this entrance when we arrive in just a few minutes."

_"Yes, Professor, the FBI has already secured all restaurant entrances and closed off that block of Mercer Street directly behind my diner. I have been informed that your most important vehicle will be a large truck; you should be able to bring that truck along Mercer to the rear entrance. I shall be most eagerly awaiting your arrival." _

Walter Carlton hung up his phone, both anxious for the safety of his daughter and curious as to what was going to occur when Trevor Broom and his 'unique' agents arrived. He was especially curious as to the reasons why giant rats would consider such extreme measures to make contact with Trevor Broom's adopted son.

It had seemed obvious from Broom's conversation that his adopted son was probably the most unique of his 'unique' agents. After what Walter Carlton recalled Mindy telling him of this son's costume and demeanor at the party, he was even more curious to meet Trevor Broom's adopted son for himself.

* * *

FBI agents and other law enforcement personnel were hindering curiosity seekers and news personnel from approaching too close to the Emerald Diner. These people watched from a distance as the agents allowed an unmarked black sedan make the turn from West Fourth on to Mercer Street; a large sanitation truck followed it. Other similar sedans parked on Broadway, at the main entrance to the diner, or along West Fourth at the side entrance.

Trevor Broom seldom ate at local restaurants when he taught classes at NYU, but used this diner on occasion for its excellent selection of imported Irish and English teas. No wonder Mindy had seemed familiar when he saw her picture.

Broom alighted from the sedan on Mercer Street and spoke with the FBI agent stationed at the rear entrance. He then walked through that entrance into an employee staff-room. As Broom entered, Walter Carlton, a reddish-haired man in a dark suit who appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties quickly approached him. Despite his English-sounding surname he definitely looked Irish.

"You must be Professor Broom," he said as he shook Broom's hand, "I myself seldom interact with the people who dine here; I usually leave that up to my daughter and my other wait staff. I recognize you, however, as one who sometimes comes here in the late afternoon for a cup of tea. I knew you were on the NYU faculty, but never would have pegged you as the director of a special agency related to the FBI. I pray that you and your agents will be able to find my daughter and Professor Corrigan."

"We will do everything possible to track these creatures down," Broom said as he returned Carlton's handshake, "Can you point out to me which table Professor Corrigan was seated at when she and your daughter were taken away?"

Carlton led Broom into the deserted restaurant. Neither Broom nor Kate Corrigan had offered classes at NYU this semester. However, it was the third Monday in December and Broom knew the university was in the midst of final exams. It was now well past suppertime. Yet the diner should still be bustling with a large crowd of college students and other young adults, along with NYU faculty and other local diners looking for a snack or late supper. It was disconcerting to see it so empty.

They walked over toward some small tables next to the windows that faced out onto West Fourth.

"I had been paying little attention to what was going on in the restaurant; I was concentrating more on figuring out the take for the day up until suppertime. I never saw Professor Corrigan enter the diner. My daughter had worked an early shift today and was probably just finishing up when the professor arrived. Mindy had always been friendly with her and I assume that she went out of her way to wait on her before she left for the evening. Mindy must have gone into the employee staff-room afterwards and changed from her uniform."

Carlton pointed out the table where Kate Corrigan had been sitting. Broom noted some scattered papers with Kate's handwriting, some books she must have been consulting on vampirism in Hungary, and her favorite fountain pen. He saw her winter jacket hanging from a nearby hook. She must have finished eating, as there were few plates on the table and next to her books was a cup of coffee.

There was also a small purse on the opposite side of the table that Broom did not recognize as belonging to Kate. Next to this purse was another cup of coffee and a jacket was draped over the second chair that Broom also did not recognize.

"Mr. Carlton, do these other items belong to your daughter?"

"Yes, Professor, they do. Usually Mindy goes straight home to her apartment on Carmine Street when she is done working. However, this evening it seems she poured herself a cup of coffee and joined Professor Corrigan at her table. They were probably continuing a previous discussion on the origins of non-Gaelic Irish surnames; my own name of 'Carlton' is one of these."

Broom looked closer at the table and then stooped down and looked underneath it. He saw Kate's purse and leather satchel tucked under the chair where she had been seated. On the floor next to the chair where Mindy would have been seated he saw an open tube of lipstick. He touched nothing; standing up he addressed Walter Carlton.

"I have received all of the information that I could obtain from the police and the FBI agents who responded to your call. However, I would now like to hear what occurred from your point of view."

Carlton gestured for Broom to sit down at a nearby clean table. He departed for a few minutes and returned with a tray containing a pot of freshly brewed Irish tea, milk, and two cups. He set this down and poured Broom and himself a cup of the steaming beverage.

They both drank tea while he continued; "It was around 6:30 in the evening. I had just counted out a bunch of bills and placed them into the safe hidden beneath the counter, when I heard a lot of screaming and could see people running around outside on West Fourth. A young girl ran into the restaurant through the West Fourth entrance shouting something about having seen giant black rats. She collapsed, sobbing onto one of the stools at the counter. Just as she did this, two huge rats jumped into the restaurant through that entrance. Before I could even react, these horrible creatures grabbed Mindy and some other woman and dragged them out of that door and down an open manhole on West Fourth. Later, I found out it had been that manhole those creatures had appeared from."

Carlton took another sip of his tea. "I called the police, even though I felt quite the fool jabbering on about giant rats. I found out then that there had been other sightings of these rats, but they had only seized my daughter and this other woman. Fifteen minutes later the police, along with a group of FBI agents, turned up. For some reason they already seemed to know that the other women was Professor Corrigan. I was then asked to wait for a phone call. That's as much as I know."

Broom sighed, "I hate cases like this. I'm afraid I can make no guarantees of our success; but I can promise we will do everything possible to rescue your daughter and my NYU colleague. I wish now to bring in the agent that I would like to examine Kate's table and the items left there."

The news personnel and curiosity seekers, who were still hanging around trying to see something, watched as Broom exited out from the rear of the restaurant. Rather than returning to the black sedan he had issued from, he spoke into a communications device he held in his hand. After a few moments, the rear doors of the sanitation truck dropped down and they watched as he climbed in.

A few minutes later, they saw him come back out from the truck accompanied by a bearded man with dark glasses, dressed in a dark overcoat, and wearing a black fedora hat. As this man was also wearing dark gloves, he was completely covered with little skin showing; certainly over-dressed for the warmth of that evening. The two men then entered together into the rear entrance of the restaurant.

Walter Carlton was waiting by the table that he had shown to Broom earlier. He was standing and staring out the window onto the night-covered vista of West Fourth. He appeared not to be focused on anything, but was actually looking closely at the still-open manhole that was now surrounded by police and FBI agents. He turned away from the window as he heard Broom enter. It was then that he noticed the oddly dressed agent who accompanied him.

"I'm sorry, Professor Broom, but I can't help worrying about what is happening to Mindy right now. All I keep thinking about is what those creatures may be doing to her."

As Walter Carlton spoke, the man who had accompanied Professor Broom stepped forward and spoke before Broom had a chance to either reply to the comment or introduce him to Carlton.

"Your daughter and Professor Corrigan are frightened and confused, however they are essentially unharmed at this point in time." His voice was oddly muffled, as if the beard he wore was false.

Carlton stared at Broom's mysterious companion. "How do you know this? Do you already have an idea of where they are being held?"

The man pulled out from his pocket the picture the BPRD had been given of Mindy. "I can often sense these kinds of things from pictures of people or objects they may have touched. Unfortunately, this picture is not enough for me to get more than a vague sense of the essential well being of Mindy and Kate Corrigan. That is why I wish to examine the belongings they were in close contact with when the rats seized them. I am hoping to get a clearer picture of what happened after they left here."

Broom smiled slightly, "Mr. Carlton, I would like to introduce you to Abraham Sapien, the latest addition to the group of field operators who work directly with my son. The best thing we can do right now is to let him examine the table and its contents."

The man introduced as Abraham held out his gloved right hand to Walter Carlton to be shaken. "Please, call me Abe, Mr. Carlton. I wish we could have met under better circumstances." He then turned to Trevor Broom. "Would it be possible, Professor, for me to get out of this disguise you buried me under? I'm absolutely suffocating."

Broom looked over at Carlton, "I always prefer my agents to be as comfortable as possible. I should make you leave the room before Abe removes his disguise, but I would like you to stay if you wish. The organization I direct is called the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. We deal with and work with very unusual beings. As most of what the BPRD does is classified, you must never divulge to any other person what you witness of the workings of my organization."

Carlton nervously rubbed his hands together, "I would like to stay, Professor. I'm just too eager to find out anything about my daughter to want to leave. I know how to keep a secret."

Broom smiled at him, "It would be best to pull all the blinds down over the windows. Even though the agents outside are doing an admirable job of keeping the media and curious crowds away, it would be best to be as careful as possible. This investigation may take Abe some time. Maybe another pot of tea would be calming for all of us. Bring a third cup; Abe might like some tea himself."

Some of the blinds had already been pulled down earlier to block the glare from the setting sun. Carlton went around the diner and completely pulled down all the rest of the window blinds. He then went and fetched another tray of tea as Broom had requested.

By the time Carlton returned, Abe had divested himself of that overly warm disguise and was already closely examining all of the items on or underneath the table. He had been stooping down and looking under the table as he heard Carlton returning, but stood up to address him.

As Carlton set the tray of tea down on the table where Broom was waiting, it was hard not to stare at the slender blue-gray fish-man in his tight-fitting black shorts and shirt. Rather than taking offense at Carlton's obvious disconcertment at his appearance, Abe smiled at him.

"My investigation is going well, Mr. Carlton. I'm already starting to get a clearer picture of what happened after they left here. I have high hopes that some of these items may give me a general idea of where they might have been taken." Abe returned to his work.

Even though Abe's smile and obvious concern for his anxiety did much to reassure Carlton, he was still very nervous as to Abe's nature. He sat down at the table with Broom, who was already helping himself to a cup of tea.

"I'm sorry, Professor; I know you said Abe would be unusual, but I never expected a thing as weird as this creature. Where did it come from?"

Broom held up a warning hand, "Mr. Carlton, I prefer that my more unique agents not be referred to as 'creatures' or 'things'. 'He', not 'it', is the only known example of the species Icthyo Sapien."

Smiling, he took another sip of his tea. "I understand your confusion, Mr. Carlton, at suddenly being confronted by such a unique being. He originally came to me because the federal government wished the BPRD to inquire into the nature of an interesting specimen found quite by accident in a secret laboratory in St. Trinian's Hospital in Washington. However, once Abe was awakened to consciousness, it became clear to me he was much more than the aberration of nature some considered him. Abe started working for my organization just about a month ago and, outside of my own adopted son, I have never met a more generous-hearted or loyal being. He has become much more to me than a mere agent of my organization and has already become fast friends with my son."

Blushing slightly, Carlton took a drink of his tea to cover his discomfiture. Putting the cup down he smiled back at Broom. "Since he arrived, Abe has been nothing except sensitive to my worry over my daughter. I've always considered myself a tolerant individual; it takes something like this to expose one's unexamined xenophobic tendencies. I apologize to both of you for my thoughtless remarks."

"There is no need to apologize," Abe said, walking over to the table and pouring himself a cup of tea, "I understand from my own experience how frightening it can be to suddenly be confronted with beings completely alien to yourself. I have also learned how beneficial it is to be open to learning from those who are different. I will never be sorry that I chose to trust Professor Broom and his son."

Drawing up a chair from another table, Abe sat down to drink his tea. After a few moments of silence, he told Broom and Carlton what he had discovered thus far.

"I'm getting the strongest impressions from the lipstick that was next to Mindy's chair and from Professor Corrigan's fountain pen. They both seem to have been holding these items and dropped them as the rats grabbed them. If what I suspect is true, that Mindy had been caught in the act of reapplying her lipstick and the Professor still has spots on her hands from the ink in the pen, there is a very strong connection between these two items and the women's current location. I am inclined to think they are being held somewhere north of here."

Getting back up from his chair, Abe fetched the lipstick he had been examining. "I'm getting the clearest picture in my mind from this item, Professor. However, I just don't know enough about New York City yet to completely recognize what I am seeing when I touch it." He held out his right hand, the lipstick on his palm. Trevor Broom placed his own right hand over this and closed his eyes.

After a few moments, Broom opened his eyes again. "What you are seeing is the old gatehouse at Convent Avenue and 135th Street. It is an architectural oddity that was constructed in the 1880's to service the New Croton Aqueduct. Although it looks like a small castle with a tower, it is really nothing more than a hollow stone shed. The structure is practically derelict and would be an excellent hideout for these creatures. It could be entered into from below by clambering through the tunnels and piping that still connect the unused Old Croton Aqueduct to the newer waterworks system."

Sitting back down in his chair, Abe digested all of this information. "Yes, Professor, that makes some sense out of what I have been picking up. However, my gut feeling is that they are not inside this structure itself, but are somewhere nearby. I would like you to obtain, if possible, detailed schematics of the waterworks in New York City, ones that show the connections between the old and current systems and can be correlated to a detailed Manhattan street map. I am hoping, by looking at these, to pinpoint more closely where Mindy and Professor Corrigan may be located. If we move closer to the location of that gatehouse in Harlem these impressions may get even stronger."

Frowning slightly, Walter Carlton stood up from the table and started to pace. "How certain are you that these impressions are accurate? You may end up going on some wild goose chase."

Broom shrugged, "It's the only real lead we have right now, Mr. Carlton. In the brief time that Abe has been working for me, I have learned to trust implicitly in his ability to gather impressions from objects and from the minds of others. Just before Thanksgiving, my son chose to ignore one of Abe's impressions and almost lost his life—as well as badly injuring Abe. He swore never to make that mistake again. If Abe thinks that obtaining maps and schematics and moving closer to this gatehouse in Harlem will help him pinpoint their location more clearly, then this is what we will do."

Moving back to the table where Broom and Abe were still seated, Carlton collapsed down into the chair he had been sitting in. "You're right, Professor, the only thing I can do is put my trust in Abe."

He poured himself another cup of tea, "I don't know if this means anything, Professor; but all of this talk about the Old and New Croton Aqueducts reminds me of something. You recall that the restaurant where you had the Halloween party was on Amsterdam Avenue near Cathedral Parkway? Well, the water tunnel for the Old Croton Aqueduct practically runs underneath the restaurant."

"Damn!" Broom suddenly exclaimed, "If I recall correctly, the NYPL research library is located at the former site of one of that system's reservoirs; all of the infrastructure of that ancient waterworks is still below the library building. My son was at both locations the night of that party. I'm convinced that these giant rats we're dealing with are not real animals, but demons of some sort. However, they are probably demons with plenty of little minions—the kind of little minions that could easily creep through alleys, streets, and tunnels. I'm afraid he was followed that night."

Getting up from his seat, Walter Carlton again went to look out the window at the still-guarded open manhole on West Fourth.

Broom turned toward Abe, "I'm starting to detect a grim pattern here. Not many weeks after the party, we were called in to quell that demon in Massachusetts. I'm beginning to wonder if my son wasn't correct in his assumption that this demon was too large for a group of students with a mere ouija board to conjure up. You both almost died in that operation. Now we've got rat-like demons threatening people he would care about; something guaranteed to bring him out into the open again."

Walking over to Carlton, Broom placed a hand on his shoulder; "That Halloween party was completely my own idea. Please don't blame my son for any of this. I take full responsibility for this fiasco."

To Broom's surprise, Carlton turned to him and smiled. "It's obvious that you care for your son as much as I care for Mindy. I can't blame you for wanting to show him a good time. Let's get the hell out of here and figure out what you guys can do for Mindy and Professor Corrigan."

_More to come… _

**Author's Afterword**: In older to clear my head while I was thinking about this story, I wrote and posted a Hellboy fic entitled Family Portrait. That fic really is intimately tied up with themes from this chapter of Hellboy's Family, as well as with Chapter Four. If you haven't read Family Portrait you might want to; it shows how I envision Hellboy's future from the point of view of the past as shown in Hellboy's Family.


	27. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 22

**Author's notes: **This follows directly after Part Twenty-One and won't make sense without the previous parts. In general, Manhattan had the same highways and streets in 1978 as we have currently. I understand that due to maintenance and re-building, the identification of these highways is more complicated than I will present below, but feel it will be better to stick to the current names for ease of identification. Forgive me for any inaccuracies.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty-Two **

Walter Carlton looked out the window at the still-guarded open manhole on West Fourth. He could not abide listening any further to Trevor Broom speak about creatures following his son the night of the Halloween party. Feeling guilt over sending his daughter to tend bar instead of working the party himself that night, he began to consider that the blame was not all his own.

It had not escaped Carlton's attention that Broom had never once referred to this son of his by name. He had already been wondering about Broom's adopted son; now, after having met the obviously non-human Abe Sapien, he wondered even more about the true nature of this mysterious, unnamed son.

From what Mindy had described to him after the Halloween party was over, she had assumed this son's odd appearance was due to an excellently designed costume. The fact that some attending the party referred to him as 'Hellboy', or affectionate variations of this name, was attributed to his friends addressing him as the character this costume portrayed.

Anger began to fill him; the very existence of this so-called 'son' was what was really responsible for Mindy's predicament. It was because of him those horrid rats dragged his only child down that manhole to some god-forsaken location below the streets of New York City.

Almost as if Broom was reading Carlton's very thoughts, he walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder; "That Halloween party was completely my own idea. Please don't blame my son for any of this. I take full responsibility for this fiasco."

To his own surprise, Carlton's anger faded and he smiled as he turned toward Broom, who had joined him in looking out the window.

"It's obvious that you care for your son as much as I care for Mindy. I can't blame you for wanting to show him a good time. Let's get the hell out of here and figure out what you guys can do for Mindy and Professor Corrigan."

Broom smiled back at Carlton, "I am much relieved that you are not going to automatically hold my son or myself responsible for this. Yet, I cannot but feel somewhat irresponsible in not anticipating…"

"No, Father," interrupted a deep voice, "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. You never would've gave me that party if I hadn't always been pestering you to let me have a night out."

Both men turned toward the rear of the restaurant, where there was now a large figure almost completely covered in a black, hooded cloak. Carlton could see a gloved left hand, but if this huge figure had a right arm it was completely hidden inside the cloak. Abe seemed to be the only one not surprised by this person's sudden appearance.

Somewhat annoyed with Hellboy, Broom still found it hard not to smile. "I asked you to stay in the truck, Son. There really is not much for you to do here and I am concerned about the media."

A grunted laugh came from deep inside the hood, "Don't worry about pictures, Pop. You really think they could see much of me in this getup? If you guys are finished, why don't you and Abe go back to the truck? I'd like to talk to Mr. Carlton and I'm sure he has plenty of questions for me."

Carlton found it hard not to just stand and stare at the newcomer who was now removing his cloak. Everything about this man, from the red face with it's sawed-off horns down to that huge right hand, was exactly the way Mindy had described the costume he had worn at the party. Broom had claimed that some of his agents were unique; it was now clear to Carlton this was his son's usual appearance. No wonder Broom had arranged that party as a Halloween costume party.

Broom looked over at Abe, who was starting to put back on his disguise, and then turned again to Hellboy. "Son, I have a question of my own. How did you know what we were discussing?"

Broom's 'son' smiled at Abe. "Let's just say a little blue bird whispered something in my ear."

Smiling back at Hellboy, Abe prepared to reattach his false beard. "I promised Red to keep him apprised of what was going on, Professor."

Carlton frowned slightly, "When did you find the time to communicate this information, Abe? You've never left the restaurant since you walked in."

"I can speak directly to the mind of another," Abe replied as he finished reattaching his beard and donning the rest of his disguise, "Especially a mind I know as well as I know Red's."

Sighing, Broom pulled back on the coat that he had removed when he first entered the restaurant. "Son, I understand why you wished to speak with Mr. Carlton, but you know the FBI would rather you came in contact with as few people as necessary. Don't be too long."

Walking over to Carlton, Broom shook his hand. "I'm sorry we could not become better acquainted under more pleasant circumstances. I would bring you with us. However, I know the FBI would never condone me permitting a civilian to accompany us unless we required the help or expertise of such. You have an idea of our destination; I beg you not to try and follow us. If we are to succeed, it would be better not to have the possibility of inadvertent interference on your part."

Finding himself unable to speak, Carlton squeezed Broom's hand and nodded. Broom squeezed back and then, followed by Abe, walked out to the waiting vehicles parked at the rear of the restaurant.

After their departure, Hellboy looked over the wooden chairs at the tables and determined these chairs were probably sturdy enough to hold his weight. He sat down and indicated for Carlton to join him. Carlton hesitated slightly, somewhat nervous, "Can I bring you anything, sir?"

Hellboy shook his head; "I know I should be hungry; never got a chance to eat supper. But I'm just too upset. I could use a large cup of strong black coffee, though. Maybe it would clear my head a bit. By the way, Carlton, I'm just plain 'Hellboy'; maybe not the prettiest name in the world, but it's mine. Or you can call me 'Red' or 'H.B.' like some of my friends do."

Carlton walked over to where there was an urn full of hot coffee that had been made hours before. Filling a mug, he brought it to the table and sat down opposite Hellboy.

"If you like your coffee strong, Red, this should be plenty strong by now."

Even Hellboy's left hand dwarfed the mug as he picked it up and gulped down the bitter coffee. Hellboy smiled, "Thanks, Carlton, that really hit the spot."

Carlton was somewhat surprised at how attractive this large, red creature looked when he smiled.

Hellboy leaned forward, "Look, Carlton, I'm sure you're wondering what in the hell creature I'm supposed to be. Guess what? So am I and, believe me, I hate not knowing."

"Yes, Red, I admit I am curious. Your father can't tell you something? Doesn't he know?"

Hellboy shrugged, "Father doesn't really know that much. In 1944 he stopped the Nazis from using black magic to win the war; the only result of that interrupted experiment was my own little baby self. Trevor Broom rescued me and has always treated me as his son. Never cared one damn bit he wasn't exactly sure where I came from; said it didn't make a difference. He's raised me up to work with him and as far as I'm concerned he is my father; the only father I care to know."

Hellboy was silent for a while; when he continued, Carlton was surprised to notice tears in his eyes. "I'll probably never even have the chance to know what it's like to lose a child. I'm hoping you'll never know what it's like to have your very existence be a danger to the people you care about."

Hellboy pushed the coffee mug toward Carlton for a refill. After Carlton returned with more of that almost medicinally strong coffee, Hellboy took a long drink from it before he continued speaking.

"I've known Kate Corrigan for almost twenty years; I can't even bear to think what these bastard rats may be doing to her. And I feel ten times worse about Mindy. I got pretty drunk that night and just didn't think enough about what I was doing. I should've realized Pop set up that party so the waiters and waitresses would stay as far away from me as possible. That party was the best time I'd ever had in my life; I just felt I had to personally thank everyone when it was over."

Hellboy took another long drink from his coffee. "Mindy's probably in trouble now because I kissed her cheek when she said she thought my costume was sexy. I'll never forgive myself if something happens to her because these goddamn rats are after me. At least Katie has an idea about creatures like this and how to handle them. But Mindy…"

Grabbing the hand that was still holding the mug of coffee, Carlton interrupted Hellboy from saying anything further. "Even up until a few minutes ago I was more than ready to place all the blame on you that you are obviously placing on yourself. I find I can no longer blame either your father or you for this situation. Please stop blaming yourself; no man should have to live with such guilt."

Pulling his hand away, Hellboy placed the mug back down on the table. "But, you see, I'm not a man; never was, never will be. Everyone would be a hell of a lot safer if I stopped trying to act like one. Trevor Broom protected me when others wanted to destroy me; there's not one thing he could ask I wouldn't do. Because of him and the work he has taught me, I've had the chance to know a few other humans; people I consider almost like my family. I keep complaining about feeling like I'm stuck in some glorified prison because I have to keep hidden; but if by just staying put and doing my job I can keep everyone safe, I should be happy with that and stop asking for more."

While Hellboy had been speaking, neither he nor Carlton noticed that Trevor Broom had walked back into the restaurant. "Son, the FBI has obtained the maps and schematics Abe requested; we need to leave now. We will be taking the West Side Highway and ongoing repairs to that highway will slow us down—especially because of the size of your truck. However, that will still be faster into Harlem than traversing local streets. Abe is already beginning to get a clearer picture after perusing some of the maps he just obtained and is eager to depart."

Standing up from the table, Hellboy took one last drink from his now cold coffee. Grabbing a paper and pencil out of a pocket, Carlton scribbled something on it; he handed the paper to Broom.

"This is my daughter's address on Carmine Street; I will be waiting there for any news. Frankly, I will be waiting there hoping to see her walk through her front door again. I wish you all good luck."

"Forget about wishing us luck," Hellboy growled, "Pray for us instead." He walked out before Carlton could answer him.

Carlton turned toward Trevor Broom who had not yet followed Hellboy, "Your son is certainly an intriguing character. I can see why my daughter found him interesting, even if she didn't realize that 'costume' was real."

Broom sighed, "Yes, I have always found him interesting, even as a child; but even more now that he is starting to grow up. He is not a man, but not for the reasons he thinks. Someday he will become a man, but I am afraid he will suffer much before that happens. Please do pray for us, but wish us luck as well. I believe in both; after all it was sheer luck that brought him to me." Broom walked out before Carlton could say anything more.

_More to come…_

**Author's temporary farewell: **I'm afraid I'll have to leave things hanging for just a while. My husband and I are attending the Berkshire Choral Festival (as singers) in the beginning of July. I've got to learn the Poulenc Gloria and Vaughn Williams Dona Nobis Pacem before we leave for that beautiful spot in the Berkshire Mountains. I have the scores and the specially prepared practice CDs. Now I've just got to make the time.

For those of you who have been following this chapter, it was the Berkshire School, the Sheffield, Mass. location of the festival, where Hellboy was possessed and shot Abe.

See you when I get back…


	28. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 23

**Author's notes: **This follows after Part Twenty-Two. However, it makes connections to Part Twenty. It won't make sense if you've haven't at least read all the parts after Part Sixteen. I will try to keep my information about the Old Croton Aqueduct in Harlem at least plausible if not completely accurate.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty-Three**

Hellboy and Trevor Broom walked out of the restaurant dining room into the staff-room where the rear entrance was located. Walter Carlton then noted that Hellboy had left behind the cloak he had been wearing when he first entered. Carlton grabbed up the cloak and followed them into the staff-room. Broom had already departed but Hellboy had turned back to retrieve what he had left behind.

"Thanks, Carlton," Hellboy said as it was silently handed to him. Hellboy threw the cloak on, covering himself in the same way as when Carlton had first seen him. Just as Hellboy again turned toward the rear entrance to depart, Carlton touched his shoulder to stop him.

"Red, I know you said I should pray instead of wishing you luck. Believe me, I will be praying hard—harder than I ever have before. But let me wish you all the luck in the world, anyway. Not just in saving my daughter and your friend, but in every other aspect of your life as well. You deserve a whole lot more than you think you do."

"As they say, 'From your mouth to God's ears'," Hellboy replied as he readjusted his cloak, "Never had much good luck in my life, except for such a great guy wanting to be my father. But I can't even have a woman show interest in me as a man, for Jesus Christ, without my bad luck rubbing off on her."

Without waiting for a reply, Hellboy turned and strode out through the rear entrance.

* * *

To Abe it seemed like hours and hours of just driving around Harlem, consulting maps and schematics, trying to sense the exact location of Mindy Carlton and Kate Corrigan. To Hellboy, who hadn't had much to do except wait for Abe to come up with something, it seemed more like centuries.

Hellboy couldn't even enjoy the brand-new, equipment-filled garbage truck Lee had just given him. As he disconsolately slumped down in his seat, Abe came and knelt beside him.

"I am absolutely certain we will find them eventually, Red. It's just a matter of pinpointing their location even more clearly. I know we're close—very, very close. But what I'm receiving from the pen and lipstick I picked up in the restaurant is just not enough. Do you have anything else with you that once belonged to Kate Corrigan?"

Searching through the pouches of his utility belt, Hellboy eventually drew out a crumpled, once-blue hair ribbon. He gazed at it pensively before handing it to Abe. Closing the nictitating membranes over his eyes, Abe concentrated on any feeling or picture he could get from the ribbon. Slowly he began to make something out.

_Eight-year-old Katie Corrigan ventured into Trevor Broom's hospital room. Wearing a white blouse and blue skirt, her dark-blond hair was tied with blue ribbons into pigtails. Seeing fourteen-year-old Hellboy asleep in a chair by his dangerously ill father's side, Katie pushed her way past the attendant nurse who objected to her intrusion into the room of an unconscious man. _

_Awakened by Katie's entrance, Hellboy held his arms out to her and she threw herself into them, sobbing out her grief at her own father's recent death. Drawing her up into his lap, he held her close until she fell asleep, exhausted from weeping. Her once neatly tied hair straggled out of the ribbons. _

_Refusing to let the nurse take Katie from him, Hellboy eventually untied the pigtails of the sleeping girl with his left hand and gently straightened her hair. Stuffing the ribbons into a shirt pocket, he fell back asleep with Katie in his arms. A nurse later awakened them for breakfast and helped Katie re-do her hair. After Katie's mother came to take her home that afternoon, Hellboy found another pair of blue ribbons Katie had left behind in the Medical Wing chapel where they had been praying together._

Over subsequent years, Kate Corrigan always managed to keep up an intermittent correspondence with a 'Frank Redford' of Brooklyn and his son. Even so, Hellboy never saw Kate again until she was nineteen years old and was one of Trevor Broom's students at NYU; but he had always kept these ribbons close by him as mementos of his 'little sister'.

Abe handed the ribbon back to Hellboy, who now had the other ribbon of the pair in his hand. "Unfortunately, Red, no matter how touching, these memories don't help me much. Do you have anything that would be more recent?"

Hellboy stuffed the two old hair ribbons back into the pouch they had come out of. Reaching into an inside pocket of his coat, Hellboy pulled out a small booklet. "Father gave me this a few years back. It's not exactly something that belonged to Katie, but she wrote me something in it."

Abe took the booklet, entitled Field Guide to Demons and Demonic Animals. It had been inscribed to Hellboy both by Trevor Broom and Kate Corrigan, who had written this newer edition of a work originally written by her father, Richard Corrigan.

Hellboy grabbed Abe's arm just as he again closed his eyes to concentrate on trying to get a clear impression of Kate and Mindy's current location. "You've got to find them, Blue; you just have to. Don't know what I'll do if anything happens to either one of them."

Hellboy stopped and swallowed before going on, "Sometimes, it's like it was just yesterday when Katie was a little girl with ribbons in her hair." He pulled the ribbons out again and gently ran them through the fingers of his left hand.

"But she's not a little girl anymore." Again falling silent, Hellboy looked at the once bright-blue ribbons lying in his hand; they looked even more faded against the red of his palm.

"I think I'm in love with her," he finally added, almost in a whisper.

This revelation was not totally unexpected. Several months earlier, Abe had been playing a childish game of reading people's minds without permission. Hellboy had made it more than abundantly clear that he found this intrusion into his private thoughts infuriating. But Abe had managed to pick up some interesting indications of Hellboy's feelings for Kate Corrigan before Trevor Broom made him realize that he would soon alienate everybody around him through this invasion of their privacy.

Now, during this time of crisis, Abe desperately wanted to say something reassuring, but this was a topic he felt would be much better dealt with by Trevor Broom. Abe wished Broom were there with them in the truck, feeling inadequate to offer Hellboy the comfort he so obviously needed.

He was also beginning to feel inadequate to the task of locating Kate Corrigan and Mindy Carlton. Wearily closing his eyes, he again concentrated on what was coming to him from the booklet.

While he was doing this, Hellboy sank back down into his seat. After a few moments he took the ribbons and wound them together with his left hand. He then cumbrously entwined them around his left wrist using his unwieldy right hand, in much the same way as he had once done with Trevor Broom's rosary when Broom had been hospitalized with cancer in 1959; it was then, at what was the worst time in both their young lives, that he had first met Kate Corrigan.

As Hellboy sat fidgeting with the ribbons wrapped around his wrist, he kept trying to remind himself that 'his Katie' was no longer a young girl. Now a grown woman, Kate Corrigan in recent years had shown herself more than capable of dealing with any number of weird creatures in her field research on vampirism. Hellboy himself had taught her much that she knew about self-defense.

Still, Hellboy couldn't help feeling almost panicked that he had no idea where Kate was or how she was faring. Both of them had been so alone when they first met. In 1959, Hellboy already had some strong connections to friends and colleagues. Yet none of these men and women, no matter how well intentioned, could ever be there for him in the way Trevor Broom had been. Struggling to be there for Hellboy as much as he could during his long hospitalization, Broom still found it hard to always offer his adopted son the comfort and support he needed during that troubling time.

And Katie had been even worse off than Hellboy. She was a young girl mainly left on her own in the medical wing of a unique facility filled with strange people and at least one strange creature; a girl whose mother seemed incapable of dealing with Katie's emotional needs at the same time she was dealing with her own fears over her husband's eventually terminal illness.

Regularly fighting against the Nazis in Argentina from around age ten until their final defeat in 1958, Hellboy, at fourteen years of age, had already been close to seven feet tall. But he had been raised in a socially isolated environment; regardless of his maturing experiences in Argentina, Hellboy had not really been much beyond the younger Katie in terms of his social and emotional development. It was not surprising that they had turned to each other for support and friendship—a friendship that was turning into something very different now that Kate Corrigan was in her late twenties.

Finding these memories both comforting and troubling at the same time, Hellboy became even more restless waiting for Abe to come up with anything the least bit useful. He got up from his seat and paced around the less cluttered rear section of the truck. After doing this for a while, he again flopped back down into his seat. He went through this repetitive cycle of nervous activity over and over.

Abe finally threw the book on to the floor, "Damn it, you big red monkey! I cannot concentrate with this infernal pacing!"

"Concentrate! Concentrate on what?" Hellboy shouted, stopping his restless meanderings to face Abe, "I can't see that this damn psychic hocus-pocus of yours is getting us anywhere. How do we even know that Kate and Mindy are anywhere near this area of Harlem? I know Pop wants me to trust this so-called gift of yours, but I'm just sitting here doing nothing while people I care about are in danger."

Striding over to where Abe was standing, Hellboy snatched up his book from where it had been tossed and examined it closely. "The cover; I can't believe you bent the cover, fish face." Hellboy collapsed down in his seat and tried in vain to smooth out the dent in the front cover of the softbound book.

Starting to develop a headache, Abe collapsed into his own seat in the truck. "Do you have a better idea of how we should be going about this? I'm open to any of your brilliant suggestions." Immediately regretting his sarcastic tone, Abe looked over at Hellboy, "I'm sorry about the book, Red. I know that it means a lot to you."

Hellboy sighed, his anger fading back into his earlier anxiety. "Pretty good book, really. I've actually used it a couple of times. Katie added a lot of new stuff to her father's original book, but it's got diddlysquat about giant rats. That's a new one on me."

Suddenly the pain in Abe's head increased exponentially. "I think I'm going to faint," he groaned.

Hellboy did not like the way Abe looked. His face had become so pale as to look more like the faded blue ribbons Hellboy had wrapped around his wrist than Abe's usual blue-green complexion.

"Jesus, Abe, drop your head between your knees if you think you're going to keel over."

Jumping up from his seat, Hellboy attempted to catch Abe, but he didn't make it. Feeling somewhat helpless, he dropped down beside the fish-man who was now writhing in pain on the floor of the truck, throwing up everything in his stomach. The truck, which was still slowly cruising around the section of Harlem centering on 135th and Amsterdam, hit a bump causing Abe an even more exquisite pain.

"Get them to stop the truck," he managed to grunt out before getting hit by the dry heaves that came because he had nothing left to throw up.

Hellboy fumbled for the walkie-talkie attached to his belt. "Stop the damn truck. Stop it right now!"

The garbage truck rumbled to a halt. _"Son, we've been past this location many times before without any sign from Abe that he sensed anything. Is something wrong?" _Trevor Broom radioed from the sedan he had been following the truck in.

"Damn right, something's wrong, Pop," Hellboy radioed back, "First Abe practically fainted, then he started upchucking all over the place right before he asked to have the truck stopped. Have no idea what's up except he looks awful. Maybe he's been trying too hard or something."

Abe's body finally stopped trying to vomit up nothing but air and he weakly rolled over into a sitting position on the floor. "Help me into my tank, Red. I feel like I need to be in water for a while."

"_Son,"_ came Broom's voice, _"I'm coming into the truck to check on Abe. He should be put in his tank. He may have been out of water too long today on top of being worked very hard." _

"He's already asked me to get him into it," Hellboy replied as he began to help Abe up from the floor. "I'm just putting him in it now."

_"Good. I'll be there in just a minute." _

By the time the rear doors dropped down and Broom climbed in, Abe was in the tank installed in the new truck for his use. He was already looking a lot better. This tank was much smaller than his aquarium in Broom's office, so Abe could hear most of what the people outside of it were speaking. But since it had not yet had speakers installed he could not speak to them while in the tank.

"What exactly happened here, Son?"

"Don't know much more than I told you before." Hellboy hesitated slightly before going on in a rush; "Me and Abe, we kind've had a bit of a run-in right before it happened. Nothing major, mind you. Just think we were both a bit stressed out. Certainly not enough to cause all this," Hellboy gestured at the mess on the floor, "But I did say some stupid things and I'm really sorry."

Hellboy and Broom both turned toward Abe when they heard a knock on the glass wall of the tank. ((I am just as much at fault as Red, Professor,)) he gestured in the sign language he was first taught to communicate in. ((We both mistook frustration with the situation as frustration with each other. There is nothing to forgive.))

Noting that Abe looked a lot less like death warmed over, Hellboy walked closer. "Hey, Blue, you forgive me, I forgive you; isn't that what brothers do? At least you look better. How do you feel?"

((Almost as if nothing had happened. I was beginning to feel somewhat weary at the time, but that headache was totally unexpected. At first it was so slight, I merely thought it was a tension head…)) Stopping in mid-sign, Abe grasped his head in both hands, silently gasping in pain and swallowing what felt to him like an ocean full of water in the process.

Abe shot to the surface of the water, pushed open the top of the tank and tumbled out. Falling to the floor before either Broom or Hellboy could get close enough to catch him, Abe lay there retching up the water he had just swallowed and writhing in the grips of an even worse headache.

Feeling helpless again, Hellboy watched as Trevor Broom rushed to assist Abe.

"Where are we, Professor?" Abe managed to croak out as Broom tried to help him up from the floor.

"Near 145th and Saint Nicholas." Broom looked up at Hellboy, "Son, remember that hole-in-the-wall fish-fry place I used to bring you fish and chips from when I taught some classes at the CUNY Graduate Center? We're parked on Saint Nicholas in front of that."

"Fish-fry place? Ugh, how disgusting," groaned Abe, who gagged and retched up some more water, just missing Broom's leather shoes.

This reminder of the best fried-fish in the city made Hellboy realize he was famished. It was probably after midnight by then and he hadn't eaten anything since lunch. He was just wondering if there was any food to be had in the truck, when Abe suddenly stood and grabbed a hold of Broom by his jacket.

"145th and Saint Nicholas!" Abe unexpectedly shouted in a voice hoarse from his bouts of vomiting, "That's it! That's the place! Red and I need to get out and look for a white cat with blue eyes. It can lead us to the thing we need. But we must go now!"

Thinking Abe was merely delirious, Broom tried to get him to sit in his seat again. Seeming almost frantic, Abe seized Broom by his wool vest, practically lifting his feet off the floor. "We need to get out of this truck right here, right now! We can't wait or the cat will be gone."

Hellboy hurried over and rescued Broom from Abe's surprisingly strong grip. "Hey, Blue, I'd rather you not rip Pop to shreds. Calm down for a second." He forced Abe down into his seat.

Hellboy recognized the appraising look that Broom gave Abe. "Hmmm," Broom said after a moment's consideration, "Maybe these headaches are more than they appear. But are you up to going out, Abe? These physical manifestations you are receiving are pretty extreme."

Abe stood and stretched his lean body, again looking more himself. "Professor, please accept my apologies; I do not know what possessed me to seize you in that manner. I believe the longer I wait to follow this impression the more severe these physical manifestations will become."

A few minutes later, under the supervision of some of the BPRD agents from the FBI, Abe and Hellboy were standing in front of the now closed fried-fish restaurant. The street was mostly deserted at that time of night, but 145th Street being a major subway stop guaranteed a certain bustle of activity regardless of the lateness of the hour. But this was Harlem; people who noticed the odd looking characters surrounded by what were obviously law-enforcement types were not about to interfere.

Having never been to that area of the city before, Hellboy still recognized it from Broom's description. He pointed out to Abe the spotlighted Gothic towers of the CUNY Graduate Center to the south. "Looks a little out of place in this neighborhood, don't it. And I remember Pop telling me that this fish-fry place doesn't even really have a name; people just call it 'the fish-fry'. He said the inside of this dinky place is about the size and shape of a bathroom, or 'lavatory' as he called it."

While Hellboy chattered, more out of nerves than any need to give Abe information, Abe crouched down and examined the pavement in front of the tiny fish restaurant. He had a very strong sense that he was almost in the right place, but not quite. Standing again, he looked south along Saint Nicholas toward the CUNY Graduate Center campus on Convent Ave. Almost as if in a trance, Abe began to cross to the west side of Saint Nicholas. Hellboy and the other agents moved after him as he got to the other side and walked south.

Just as they walked past a rather dull building with a sign announcing it as The Harlem School of the Arts, Abe stopped and examined the pavement again. As Hellboy walked up beside him, tiny little claws suddenly grabbed Hellboy's tail from behind. Swinging around, he saw a little streak of white dance back into the darkened entrance of the school. Hellboy tapped Abe's shoulder, "I think I've found the cat, or at least it found me."

He then slowly walked toward the entrance, peering into the darkness. The dirty white cat, not quite full grown, pounced out at him again; this time it held some shiny metal object in its mouth, which it dropped at Hellboy's feet and disappeared into the darkness again. Puzzled by the cat's odd behavior, Hellboy bent over and picked up the object, which despite the poor lighting he recognized right away.

"Look at this, Abe," Hellboy said as Abe walked up to him, "It's the hair clasp I brought back for Kate from a 1971 field operation in Madagascar. She must have let her hair grow out again while she was in Hungary; she always wears this when her hair gets long."

Abe took the now scratched and dented, but still beautiful, silver clasp in his hand and closed his eyes. He suddenly opened his eyes again and walked further south along Saint Nicholas until the dark mass of Saint Nicholas Park loomed ahead with the towers of the CUNY campus to the west.

"Well, Red, do you want to guess what park was constructed from land condemned during the construction of the Old Croton Aqueduct? I've a much better idea of where they are now. There's a map back in the truck of all sorts of abandoned chambers and whatnot related to that aqueduct that are down below the surface of that park. Let's get back and have a look at it."

_More to come..._


	29. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 24

**Author's notes:** This makes connections to the Parts from Part Sixteen onward, especially Parts Twenty and Twenty-Three. It really won't make sense if you haven't read Part Twenty-Three.

**Reminder: **Kate Corrigan is not an original character of mine. She is a character from the original comics that Guillermo del Toro opted not to use in the film adaptation of Hellboy. What is original to me is the past relationship I generate between Kate and Hellboy; in the original comics they are shown to have a uniquely deep friendship as adults. Major Frank Dixon is an original character of mine, first appearing in Chapter Four of Hellboy's Family.

The idea of giant rats derives from one of the short stories in Hellboy: Odd Jobs, but how I use them connects more to the non-human characters in the original comics who keep trying to remind Hellboy of his 'true' destiny. The now disused Old Croton Aqueduct is filled with all sorts of underground chambers. Even though Saint Nicholas Park was created during the construction of the aqueduct and the presence of chambers would be plausible, I'm mostly making up the stuff below.

**Warning:** Heed the 'T' (PG13) rating. Sexual attraction and activity will be hinted at, but will never become graphic; language may become slightly more emphatic, but still not a lot of swearing.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty-Four**

Hellboy walked closer to Saint Nicholas Park and peered into the darkness. Walking up to him, Abe handed back Kate's hair clasp and placed an arm around his shoulders. Abe could sense the tension thrumming through Hellboy's body; the overwhelming need to do something straightforwardly physical rather than waiting for Abe to pore over another map. Patiently awaiting the results of painstaking research was not one of Hellboy's strongest virtues.

"Let's get back to the truck, Red. The angle we are viewing this park does not show the full extent of its size; as I recall from my maps, it may not be very wide from east to west, but it is fourteen blocks long. Rushing right into it will not help us find them any faster."

With great reluctance, Hellboy turned away from the park that might contain the location where Kate and Mindy were being imprisoned. Accompanied by the other BPRD agents, Hellboy and Abe returned to the truck where Trevor Broom was eagerly awaiting any information they might have found.

Broom may not have seemed as impatient as his adopted son, but Kate Corrigan had been both the daughter of his late colleague and Broom's protégée since age nineteen; he felt a definite paternal anxiety where her welfare was concerned. As Hellboy and Abe climbed back in, Broom stood up from the bench where he was seated, immediately aware that something important had been discovered.

"Look what the cat dragged in, Pop." Hellboy showed him the hair clasp, which Broom recognized immediately as belonging to Kate. "The cute little thing dropped it right at my feet. And it was white; just like Abe said it was going to be."

Broom turned toward Abe, who was already heading toward a bench-like table at the front of the truck that was strewn with maps and other schematics. "Did this help you discover anything further?"

"Yes, indeed, Professor," Abe said as he seated himself at this table. "The minute I touched that hair clasp I knew they were being held somewhere below the surface of Saint Nicholas Park."

Abe pulled out a detailed map of the underground structures in this park. Broom bent over the table to look closer at this map. "How certain are you that this park is the location?"

"Very certain, Professor. The impression I received from touching the hair clasp was quite strong." Abe gestured toward the map, "However, no matter how clear this impression, I am as yet unable to conclude which of these underground chambers is their exact location. I must ponder this further."

Having collapsed on to the long bench where Broom had been seated earlier, Hellboy slumped down nervously fidgeting with Kate's hair clasp in his left hand. Refraining from his earlier pacing, he tried to keep calm, eventually slipping the clasp into an inner pocket of his coat to ensure its safekeeping. Sensing that Hellboy needed some encouragement, Trevor Broom came and sat down next to him.

Hellboy looked up as Broom sat, noting for the first time how exhausted his adoptive father appeared. "Who knows how long Abe's going to be, Father. This bench pulls out into a kind of bed and I've seen blankets and stuff in one of the storage bays. Why don't you get some sleep?"

Broom shook his head. "I don't think I could any more sleep right now with Kate in trouble than I could when you were at death's door last month in Boston. It's a comfort just to sit here with you and feel that Abe is accomplishing more to track Kate and Mindy than we ever could. And I'm certain Walter Carlton is sitting up, just as wide awake as I, awaiting any news of Mindy."

As Broom finished speaking, Hellboy leaned in closer to him and buried his face in the crook between Broom's neck and shoulder. Feeling it wiser not to say anything until Hellboy was calmer, Broom brought his arms up and held him tight. Hellboy had not seemed this agitated during a field operation since he witnessed his first man being killed when he was just short of his tenth birthday; this had happened on his first trip with Trevor Broom to Argentina in November of 1954.

As he held on to Hellboy in much the same way as he had that time in Argentina, Broom's mind drifted back to the trip that began Hellboy's career as a monster hunter and paranormal investigator.

_By the end of 1954, Bureau operations in Argentina seemed to be basically under control; so Broom had decided to bring Hellboy, accompanied by other senior agents, on one of his trips there. Unfortunately, as soon as they had arrived to the BPRD's secret mountain headquarters in Córdoba, they were attacked without warning by a large group of hideous black creatures. Hellboy was startled when the driver of their jeep, an agent he had been very close to, was unexpectedly ripped to shreds right in front of him. Clinging to Trevor Broom, Hellboy turned his face away from this terrifying sight. _

_Major Frank Dixon, one of the commanders in Argentina of the BPRD's operations against the Nazi occultists hiding there, had not been at all impressed with the powerful-looking Hellboy's reaction to this attack. Having never met Hellboy before and only knowing a very little about him, Major Dixon had no idea this 6' 2" red-skinned, horned creature was basically an inexperienced nine-year-old boy shrinking away from the slaughter of a man he had cared for as an uncle. _

_Broom vividly recalled Hellboy pulling away from him at this criticism of his actions. Turning to face Major Dixon, he swore he would never show fear again if Dixon let him join the other men in fighting off the monstrous creatures who were still attacking. Even though Hellboy was armed, it had not been Broom's original intention to have him join directly in the fighting on that trip. But Hellboy was not about to allow his adoptive father to be in jeopardy if he could protect him. And protect him he did; even to the point of using his own body to shield Trevor Broom from the vicious attacks._

Hellboy became noted, even at that young age, as one of the most intrepid and dauntless agents the BPRD possessed. Just as he had promised Major Dixon, who became his first commanding officer in Argentina and one of his closest friends, Hellboy never again exhibited fear during a mission.

_Not, at least, until now_, thought Broom as he sat with Hellboy. He wished he knew the right words to help ease Hellboy's anguish. Just as Broom was thinking this he felt Hellboy stir. Hugging Broom so tightly he almost squeezed the breath out of him, Hellboy whispered into his ear, "Thank you, Father."

Broom sighed, wishing there was more he could have done to deserve Hellboy's gratitude than just sit there on a bench with him. Almost as if Hellboy knew what he was thinking, he sat up and smiled slightly at Broom. "You always manage to be around when I need you the most, don't you, Pop?"

Hellboy stood, stretched, and then sat back down with a sigh, "I feel so useless, Father, so helpless. Haven't felt this helpless since you had cancer back in '59. Right now I feel like tearing that entire park apart until I find Kate and Mindy. I'm going to go crazy if something doesn't happen soon."

Broom wrapped his right arm around Hellboy's shoulders, "I'm sure that Abe will come up with something that will lead to their location, Son. Then you can finally bust into that chamber, tear apart as many of those wretched rats as you desire, and, of course, rescue Kate and Mindy in the process."

This rather violent statement spoken in the dry British accent of the usually pacifist Broom made Hellboy look down at him. "You're just as worried about Kate as I am, aren't you, Pop?"

"Of course, I am, Son. And even though we don't know her as well as we know Kate, I am sure we are both just as worried about Mindy Carlton."

Hellboy nodded, "It's bad enough these bastard rats had to grab Kate just because she knows me. But, in a way, it's even worse with Mindy; the poor kid only met me once and look where it got her."

Still having his arm around Hellboy, Broom yawned wearily and passed his left hand over his face. Hellboy shifted and laid Broom's head on his shoulder. "C'mon, Pop, close your eyes for a little bit. It's not going to do you any good if you wear yourself out."

Even though it felt so good to lay his head down and close his eyes, Broom still did not fall asleep. Instead he found himself thinking over everything that had happened in those eight weeks since they first discovered Abraham Sapien. He also was beginning to wonder about the current status of Hellboy's relationship with Kate Corrigan. The realization was beginning to dawn on him that Hellboy's feelings for Kate were now much deeper than brotherly affection.

For a while Hellboy hoped that Broom had, indeed, fallen asleep. But it wasn't long before he felt Broom lift his head off of his shoulder and sit up. "Still can't sleep, huh, Pop? Wish you'd try."

"I did try," Broom said with a shrug. "It just didn't work very well." He looked up at Hellboy who was obviously just as sleepless as he was himself. "Son, I know this may not be the best time in the world to bring this up, but if there's something you need to talk about I'm ready to listen. There really can be no excuse for me putting you off because I was engrossed in working with Abe. No wonder you were so upset with the amount of time I was spending with him; please forgive me."

For the first time in what seemed like days, Hellboy laughed. "Jeez, Pop, if that's the worst thing I'll ever have to forgive you for…" Leaving the statement unfinished, he hesitated for a moment before going on. "Kate; I wanted to talk to you about Kate."

"I thought maybe that was it." Grinning shyly at Hellboy, Broom blushed slightly before continuing, "After all, Kate is not actually your sister; she has developed into an attractive young woman and you, despite your own reservations, are not unattractive yourself. When did all this start?"

Grinning back, Hellboy couldn't help finding this unexpected 'birds-and-bees' conversation amusing, "It sort of started at that Halloween party. Wouldn't have even crossed my mind, though, if Kate hadn't started kissing me first. We haven't seen each other since that party, so it hasn't really gone much of anywhere; at least not yet."

Broom gave Hellboy an appraising look, "How serious is this infatuation, Son? I suppose I should have entertained the idea of something like this happening between you. This is undoubtedly an issue I should have addressed before it came to this advanced stage."

Standing up from the bench, the grin fell from Hellboy's face. "You don't approve," he stated flatly.

Still seated, Broom shook his head. "Son, don't put words in my mouth; at this point I neither approve nor disapprove. I don't have much experience in this aspect of life; things have changed so greatly since I was younger. Are you sure you are reading Kate's signals accurately?"

Abe, still struggling to clarify the impressions gathered from Kate's hair clasp, had barely registered the ebb and flow of silence and conversation between Broom and Hellboy. Suddenly becoming aware that their conversation had changed into something more discordant, he looked up from his maps.

"Look, Pop," Hellboy snapped, "Maybe I don't have 'much experience in this aspect of life' either, but I'm not stupid. When Kate said she wouldn't mind having 'a little romance' with me, she meant a hell of a lot more than sitting under some dumb tree reading mushy poetry to each other. I don't …"

Broom flinched, almost as if he had been slapped, "Please, don't say another word. I …" his voice, already almost inaudible, trailed off. He took a deep breath, "I need to go out and get some air."

Abe, having dropped a large portion of his carefully constructed mental shields in his telepathic search for Kate and Mindy, found himself unexpectedly overwhelmed by a tide of intense emotions radiating from Trevor Broom. But what came through was not so much anger as profound grief.

Before Hellboy could even react to the tension that had developed between them, Trevor Broom got up from the bench and climbed out of the still open rear door of the parked truck onto the sidewalk. Hellboy couldn't quite make out what the two agents guarding the truck said to Broom, but he heard Broom's reply, "Leave me; I wish to be alone." Broom's footsteps then retreated into the distance.

"Smooth move, Red," Hellboy swung around at Abe's voice, "Did you ever consider that maybe a young Professor Broom did sit under a 'dumb tree reading mushy poetry' to someone? A woman he was engaged to marry and who died before he even got much beyond some passionate kissing?"

"Shit, I forgot about that," Hellboy groaned. He then began to follow after Trevor Broom.

Abe tried to stop him. "I think it may be wiser to wait for the Professor to calm down, Red."

"It's not safe in this neighborhood this late after midnight," Hellboy countered, "Must be three in the morning by now." Stopping only to throw on the cloak he had worn when he met Walter Carlton, Hellboy climbed out of the truck and found out from the agents in which direction Broom had walked.

These agents were supposed to accompany Hellboy everywhere he went, but they didn't need to be psychic to figure out that there had been some sort of altercation between Hellboy and the Professor. Wisely, they decided it would be better to let Hellboy follow his father than to risk trying to stop him.

Trevor Broom, with little conscious intent on his part, had crossed Saint Nicholas Avenue and ended up walking in the same direction that Hellboy and Abe had gone when they encountered the white cat. Finding that he was fighting a losing battle against tears, Broom stopped just past the darkened recesses of the entrance to the Harlem School of the Arts. He was so distracted as to be unaware of Hellboy's approach; Hellboy could walk very quietly when he chose.

As Hellboy drew nearer, he could hear the sound of weeping. This sound cut through him like a knife.

When he had been very young, there were times when he inadvertently caused his adoptive father pain because of the disproportionate size of his stone hand. When he became older there were times when he had said things in anger to Broom that he immediately regretted saying. For some reason Hellboy couldn't quite fathom, what had happened between them just now seemed far worse.

As open as Broom had always been in showing Hellboy the extent of his love, he still had a tendency toward a very British reserve in dealing with his more negative emotions. Hellboy could barely remember a time when he had heard Broom weeping quite so vehemently.

Broom was even more distraught than when Hellboy had found him in tears praying in the chapel on the morning of November 1st—the morning after that fateful Halloween party. This thought served to remind Hellboy that one of the things his adoptive father had been grieving over that morning was the long-ago death of the only woman he had ever loved. Broom had so seldom referred to this old grief that Hellboy didn't even know her name.

Noting that Broom still seemed to be unaware of having been followed, Hellboy ducked into the darkness of the oddly angled entrance of the art school. From there he could still keep a watchful eye on Broom without intruding his possibly unwelcome presence. With the hood up, his black cloak made him almost invisible in that dark corner; an unseen guard insuring that none molested Trevor Broom.

After a while Broom's sobs died down and he just stood, unmoving. He eventually disentwined the rosary he always had wrapped around his right wrist and began to pray silently. Hellboy had himself memorized the entirety of the rosary prayers when Broom had been hospitalized in 1959; he assumed that Broom was probably reciting the portion entitled the 'Sorrowful Mysteries'.

As Hellboy stood guard, an odd memory started to push its way into his mind; a memory of being lost in a freezing darkness uncertain of his identity or even of his sheer existence. There had been a terrible voice claiming him as son—a voice as cold and suffocating as the darkness surrounding him.

Hellboy had only one anchor to hold on to in this nightmare that was no nightmare, but was a hideous, life-threatening reality he seemed unable to escape: it was another voice—a very different voice from the dark, evil voice of the demon possessing him. It was a voice that wept and prayed—rebuking the demon that had taken his son from him; begging his beloved son to return to him.

Regardless of Father Ed Kelly's powerful exorcisms or the excellent medical care to be had in the Boston BPRD Medical Wing, Hellboy knew he had eventually been saved by Trevor Boom's great love and absolute refusal to let any demon, no matter how potent, take his son from him. Yet, it was not until this moment of standing on a sidewalk in Harlem, listening to his father weep, that Hellboy could consciously recall very much from those four days in November when he had lain trapped in a coma.

"Father, I never meant to hurt you," he muttered, "Oh, God, how can it be so easy to hurt someone when you don't even mean to?" He didn't realize he had spoken aloud until he saw Trevor Broom's back stiffen in surprise at the unexpected voice.

"Son, it is easier to hurt those you care for than those who mean little to you," Broom replied quietly, without turning to face him. "It is important to remember this if you truly wish to have a romantic relationship with Kate; or with any woman, for that matter." He returned to his interrupted prayers.

Just as Hellboy was contemplating stepping out from the corner, there came a tiny mew of pain. Looking down, he noted that he had managed to tread on the tail of the little dirty white cat that had mysteriously produced Kate's hair clasp earlier. Hellboy picked up the not quite full-grown cat and held it gently in his stone hand. The cat promptly curled up in the palm of this huge hand and started to groom itself, purring loudly; this contrast between bright red and dirty white interested Hellboy.

In the past, the only pet Hellboy ever had was a dog that Broom purchased for him when they resided in New Mexico. However, Mac, as Hellboy named this dog, had to remain behind when Broom and Hellboy moved to Washington, D.C. just after Hellboy's fifth birthday. After the move to Boston at the end of 1950, having pets just didn't seem practical; especially when Hellboy began spending so much time in Argentina after 1954.

Hellboy was surprised, that unlike most stray cats, this cat did not dash away in fear. It just seemed to enjoy the attention he was giving it. When he started petting it with his left hand, the cat purred even more loudly, rubbing itself against the stone fingers of the huge hand that held it.

"So, is that the mysterious white cat prophesied so fervently by Abe?"

Hellboy looked up from the cat he was petting; he had been so engrossed with it he hadn't noticed Trevor Broom had completed his prayers. "Yeah, it's that cat. Kind of looks hungry to me and I'd like to bring it back to the truck; see if I can find some food for it." Hellboy looked into his father's face and then looked away. He didn't like seeing the obvious traces of tears that were still there.

Hellboy placed the cat into one of the large pockets of his cloak, where it seemed perfectly contented to stay. Broom started to walk back in the direction toward the truck when Hellboy stopped him. "Father, I'm so sorry and somehow it seems even worse that I don't even know her name."

"Elizabeth; Lady Elizabeth Colton," Broom spoke in a voice so low that Hellboy had to listen closely to hear him, "And she was a 'lady' in every sense of that word; more beautiful than I ever deserved and with an extraordinary mind as well. Since she was not yet twenty-one when she agreed to marry me, her father was able to insist on a separation. My own family had some claims to aristocracy, but the ennoblement gained by my grandfather on the field of battle and in the fields of Arctic exploration was not high enough for Elizabeth's father whose noble title was an inherited one."

Broom touched the rosary that he again had wrapped about his wrist. "Her father also highly disapproved of my chosen career of 'dabbling in things the Good Lord meant us to stay away from' and of my conversion from the true Anglican faith to 'that wretched Papist nonsense'."

Blinking away tears that threatened to fall once again, Broom went on, "Elizabeth and I had never officially broken off the engagement. We planned on marrying after she turned twenty-one and her father could no longer interfere. Her inheritance was directly entailed and her father could not even disinherit her in disapproval. She, of course, died during our time of separation. I had gone overseas, both to further my own researches and to distract myself from the pain of that separation. By the time I found out of her illness, it was too late to get back to England. I even missed the funeral."

Pulling out a handkerchief from a vest pocket, Broom blew his nose. "Son, don't blame yourself for what happened. It was a terrible combination of frayed nerves, ill timing on my part, and ill-judged comments on both our parts. It was certainly not your intention to trample any memories that were sacred to me of my relationship with Elizabeth. This pain is an old one not caused by you, even if what you said caused it to resurge. It amazes me how much her loss can still hurt after forty years."

Reaching out, Hellboy pulled Trevor Broom into a bone-crunching bear hug. However, a muffled 'mew' of displeasure from the cat still ensconced in the pocket of Hellboy's cloak caused him to release Broom before he either bruised Broom's ribs or inadvertently crushed the cat.

Broom smiled at Hellboy, "Let's get back to the truck. I'll send an agent to look for cat food and litter. There should be one of those 24-hr convenience stores around here somewhere."

Hellboy looked over at Broom as they walked, "Litter, huh? You'll let me keep the cat? I wouldn't mind having a pet again, you know. Kind of missed it when we had to leave Mac in New Mexico."

"Son, I think a cat would be a perfect pet for you to have in an underground facility. I'll get Lee to make sure the FBI won't interfere. What are you going to name it?"

Hellboy gently stroked the cat in his pocket with his left hand. "Lucky; I think I'll call it Lucky. Certainly brought us some good luck, didn't it?"

When they returned to the truck, Broom stopped to speak to an agent about picking up supplies for the unexpected new pet. Hellboy climbed into the truck to find Abe impatiently awaiting his return.

"I hope you've made it up with the Professor, Red, but I'm glad you finally decided to wander back here. I think I could use your help. I'm just not getting anywhere with these idiotic maps."

"Pop's okay; not really mad at me to begin with. I'll tell you about it later; I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you knew what he just told me." Hellboy looked at Abe who seemed even more exhausted then he had been before. "What kind of help do you need from me, anyway? I don't see that there's much I can do expect tear those stupid rats apart when you finally figure out where they are hiding."

Trevor Broom had just re-entered the truck as Abe replied to Hellboy. "Look, Red, I seem to only be able to just get so far and then it's like I hit this weird wall. The hair clasp helped immensely, but I still feel like I'm groping for an abstraction. I'm just not getting enough sense of the reality of Kate or Mindy to be able to establish the psychic link that I need. You know both of them, especially Kate, in a way that I do not. Allow me complete access to your mind and your memories; that may be the one boost I need to break through that wall."

To Trevor Boom's amazement Hellboy sank down on to the bench where they had been seated earlier and dropped his head into his huge stone hand. "Ask me to do anything else, Blue. Ask me to break down doors, beat the crap out of monsters, or shoot the Samaritan at some terrifying black demon; just don't ask me to do that. I can't do it; I just can't."

Broom knelt down next to him, "But this is for Kate, Son; won't you do it for Kate? You haven't been afraid of anything since you were nine; what can be so terrifying about letting Abe into your mind?"

Hellboy looked down at his huge stone hand. "There's only one thing I've really been afraid of, Father: your disappointment when you finally find out what I truly am. Who knows what secret crap is really hidden deep inside my mind? I'm afraid neither one of us will like what Abe finds if he digs too deep."

_More to come…_


	30. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 25

**Author's notes:** This part follows directly after Part Twenty-Four. The unconsummated relationship between Trevor Broom and Lady Elizabeth Colton, which was mentioned in the previous part, is my own twist on biographical material provided for the character by Guillermo del Toro on the DVD. What I believe original to me is Broom's conversion to Catholicism.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty-Five**

Trevor Broom, still kneeling next to the bench, touched Hellboy's knee. "I am, and will always be, proud of you and proud to call you my son. There are absolutely no secrets buried deep within your subconscious that if revealed would make me any less so."

Hellboy stooped and kissed Broom's forehead. "I know you feel that way, Father. But there's a lot of things I don't know and I wish I could leave it that way. I've always liked my 'mysterious origins' staying mysterious. I know you get really bothered when people call me stuff like 'creature', 'thing', or 'monster'. But look at me, Father; really look at me. That's exactly what I am and the day may come when you'll regret you didn't destroy me instead of adopting me."

Standing up, Broom placed a hand on Hellboy's shoulder. "You are no 'monster', Son. It is your actions that define who you are and not your origins, no matter how demonic these origins may be."

During this interchange, neither Broom nor Hellboy noticed that Abe had climbed out of the truck in order to give them privacy. Just then he climbed back in, carrying several bundles. Broom walked over to Abe and relieved him of the grocery bags. These were mainly filled with snacks, some of which had already been distributed to the other agents on the operation. Almost everyone had missed supper when the call came in and were more than famished. There were also supplies for the white cat that was nestled asleep in the pocket of the cloak Hellboy had yet to remove.

Trevor Broom felt it might be wise to leave Hellboy alone for a while; not wishing him to feel compelled to make a particular choice. Taking some of the snacks from the bags, he went out of the truck to check that all of his agents had been fed and to eat a little something himself.

Getting up and digging in one of the bags, Hellboy produced a package of his favorite brand of tortilla chips and a jar of super-spicy salsa. Sighing, he tossed these items back into the bag. Instead of eating anything, he dug around in the bags until he found a can of tuna cat food.

Abe made a face at the fishy smell produced when Hellboy opened the can with a newly purchased can opener he also found in the bag. "Why cat food, Red? I never realized you had such odd tastes."

"It's not for me." Searching further in the bags, Hellboy found some plastic utensils and plates. Scooping out the tuna onto one of these plates, he placed it on the counter on the opposite side of the truck from the bench he had been sitting on. To Abe's surprise, he reached into the left-hand pocket of his cloak and removed a white cat, which 'mfffft' sleepily at being disturbed from its warm nest.

"Is that the cat we encountered earlier?" Abe looked more closely at the white cat, which he had not actually seen himself outside of his psychic prediction of it. Taking it from Hellboy, he noted that it did indeed have blue eyes and its white fur was somewhat grimy.

The cat squirmed frantically in his hands, having caught a whiff of the pungent smelling cat food. When placed on the counter, the cat immediately started wolfing down the rare treat. It wasn't very often that a stray cat got a chance to eat premium tuna cat food.

Pulling open storage bays where he thought he had seen some canisters, Hellboy eventually located some emergency water rations. This storage bay was also to include food, but Lee had not known the new truck would go into service so soon and had not finished equipping it. Locating an appropriate container, Hellboy poured some of this water into it and put in on the counter next to the cat.

While the cat was busy eating, Abe had looked into the other bags and noticed the cat litter. He then discovered a bag of Cheese Doodles, one of his own guilty pleasures, and munched several handfuls of the neon-orange colored corn puffs. Abe would usually have to contend with Hellboy for such snacks, but it was obvious that the big guy, even if he was hungry, was too upset to want to eat.

Removing a low-sided plastic pan from the medical supplies, Hellboy proceeded to fill it with some of the cat litter. He thought to himself that he would definitely have to thank Lee for having the new truck so well equipped. He then recalled how Lee had begged him to find Kate and get her back, how Walter Carlton was counting on all of them to save his daughter, Mindy. He felt more than guilty for hesitating to try anything that Abe felt would further their search.

Hellboy was now more than used to Abe projecting thoughts into his head; but this was really just a form of surface communication and the direction was just one way—from Abe's mind to Hellboy's. This time Abe wanted to connect to Hellboy's mind in a much more profound way; making Hellboy's memories his own by creating a direct two-way channel. He hoped to establish a stronger psychic link to Kate and Mindy that would reveal to him the location in the park where they were hidden.

Hellboy's primary fear was that unpalatable truths might be revealed, but he suddenly thought of other things that could go wrong with this mind linking. What if the horrible demon that had possessed him before never really went away and he went berserk again? What if there were other wretched things hiding deep in his mind that could lash out at Abe's mind during this connection?

Still considering all the things that could go wrong, Hellboy moved to where there was a series of overhead cages along the front of the truck. He was really glad to see these. In the past, it had been more than awkward in his smaller truck to transport animals—whether they were animals in use by the BPRD in the course of their work or animals rescued by them from various nefarious rituals.

Opening one of the larger cages, Hellboy lifted the pan of litter into it. He then removed his cloak, arranging it next to the pan as a cushion for the bottom of the cage. Returning to the cat, which had consumed all of the tuna and drank most of the water, he watched it grooming its whiskers and face. Hellboy gently picked up the cat and held it to his ear, listening to its contented purring.

"Poor thing looks a little dirty, don't you think, Blue? Wonder if there's a way to give it a bath?" Hellboy knew that fussing with the little cat was mainly a distraction from the hard choice Abe had put before him. He also knew he was just delaying the inevitable decision that needed to be made.

"If I recall correctly, Red, there is 'tearless' disinfectant shampoo and jugs of distilled water in the medical supplies. That counter where you fed the cat lifts up and there is a removable basin. I insist that you allow me to bathe the cat while you sit down and find something to eat. No matter how little appetite you have, your body is starving; I can literally sense this physiological need and you are not doing yourself any good by refusing your body the nutrition it needs."

"Okay, Blue, I'll eat." After giving the cat over to Abe, he returned to the bags of snacks and removed the tortilla chips, spicy salsa, and his favorite brand of mozzarella string cheese. Trevor Broom was more than pleased when he returned into the truck to find that Hellboy was eating something.

Suddenly the truck was filled with the disconsolate yowling of a cat that did not like being plunged into a basin of cool water by a being with cold hands. The poor cat definitely preferred the warmer, drier hands and toasty warm pocket of the other who had held it.

Abe looked up from what he was doing when Trevor Broom walked in. "Professor, this cat definitely has fleas. I am assuming with all of this fuss over the little thing that Red is planning on keeping it. It needs to visit a veterinarian for shots and defleaing. By the way, Red, I remember enough of my animal anatomy studies to see you have a little boy cat here."

Broom noticed the cat's white fur looked a lot cleaner when Abe rinsed out the shampoo. By this time the cat had stopped crying and just looked resigned to its ignominious fate. When Abe was finished, he located some cloths and used one of these to dry some of the water from the again struggling cat's sopping wet fur. He then handed the cat, along with a fresh cloth, over to Hellboy, who sat down in his seat with the cat in his lap and rubbed it down with the dry cloth.

Even though the cat was pleased to again be in Hellboy's warmer hands, it eventually pushed away the cloth and curling up in Hellboy's lap groomed itself dry with its tongue. Hellboy gently stroked the still slightly damp cat with his left hand and it started kneading his lap, purring happily. While Hellboy was busy with his new pet, Abe cleaned up the mess he had made while bathing the cat, wiping up the puddles on the countertop and dumping out the basin full of dirty water outside.

Hellboy looked up when Abe was finished. "Well, Blue," he said, "I named this cat 'Lucky' and it seems a pity to waste what it brought us." He stopped petting the cat and reached inside his coat and brought out Kate's hair clasp. "What do I need to do?"

Trevor Broom looked over from the bench where he had been seated watching Abe bathe the cat. "Son, I thought you said …"

"I said I can't do it; never said I won't." Hellboy got up and placed the cat into the cage he had prepared for it. Smiling, he watched the cat curiously examine the cloak and pan full of litter, climbing into the pan to relieve itself. After scratching around, burying what it had produced, the cat curled up in the pleasantly warm, familiar-scented cloak and soon drifted off to sleep.

Hellboy turned back to Trevor Broom, "You know, Pop, there's not much really scares me anymore; I've seen too many things, hunted down too many monsters. It's kind of weird the one thing that still scares me sometimes is what I see when I look in a mirror; that freak with those horns I keep trying to get rid of. But there's one thing I learned in Argentina when I was nine: the brave guy's not the one who has no fear; he's the one who does what he has to—even when he's afraid."

Hellboy came and sat on the bench next to Broom; but instead of looking at him he looked down at his boot-shod hooves. "Father, I want you out of here; go in one of the cars with a few of the guys and drive far away. Who knows what might happen? Hell, I wish Abe could go with you too, but it seems I've finally found something I can't fight alone. The rest of the guys should stick around to take me down if I get all crazy like I did in Massachusetts."

To Hellboy's wonder, Trevor Broom stood up without word or argument and climbed out of the truck. However, after a few minutes he climbed back in. "Son, I've made very specific arrangements with the other agents. You needn't worry; we will be more prepared than we were in Massachusetts for the possibility of untoward occurrences or erratic behavior on your part. However, I will certainly not permit any agent to 'take you down' unless as an absolute last resort."

Broom sat on the bench again, adamantly crossing his arms over his chest. "As for my driving off and leaving you and Abe here alone, I have no intention of doing so. You may be in need of my help."

"Get the hell out of here, Pop!" Hellboy shouted, jumping up from his seat on the bench. He brought his huge stone hand crashing down onto the bench next to where Broom was seated, leaving a dent. "It was still my wretched hand that hit you in Massachusetts, no matter how much you say it wasn't me that did it. What if I kill you this time? How am I supposed to live with myself after that?"

Trevor Broom stood and firmly, but gently placed a restraining hand on Hellboy's huge stone forearm. It absolutely amazed Abe how he could face down a 'son' who was close to a foot taller than he was and almost two hundred pounds heavier.

"Hellboy, sit down. It serves no purpose to become so overwrought." Nothing ever pulled Hellboy up shorter than Trevor Broom calling him by the name he had given him as an infant, but seldom used. Hellboy collapsed onto the bench and Broom sat next to him. Hellboy looked over at him, but the scars on his right cheek reminded Hellboy that it was his own huge right hand that had caused them. Hellboy went back to contemplating his boots. Neither spoke for a long time.

Hellboy was the first to break that tense silence. "I'm sorry, Father. I've got no right to shout at you like that, but I'm worried I could hurt you again." He still couldn't bring himself to look at Broom.

"Son, listen to me," Hellboy looked up as Broom continued, "I am certain that when I die my death will not be at your hands. For some strange reason, ever since I was young, I've always had the impression that deep down inside I know exactly how and when I will die. But it's like a recurring nightmare I can never quite recall. Rest assured, however, that day is still a long way off."

While Broom and Hellboy spoke together, Abe had moved to his seat on the other side of the truck. Recalling the earlier events in Massachusetts that had ended with him being shot by a possessed Hellboy and with Trevor Broom having a black eye and stitches all down the side of his face, Abe wondered if working with Hellboy would always be this tumultuous.

_More to come..._


	31. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 26

**Author's notes:** Poor Kate and Mindy; I've been leaving them hanging on a cliff for a long time.

This part follows directly after Part Twenty-Five, but makes connections to Part Twenty.

**Reminder: **The time period here is December 1978 in the weeks right before Hellboy's 34th birthday (I use the December 23rd date from the original comics). Heed the 'T' (PG13) rating.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty-Six**

Trevor Broom moved toward the front right-hand side of the truck to sit in Hellboy's large seat. Hellboy and Abe sat side-by-side on the long bench that was located behind it. Broom found that he was able to swivel the seat around to watch what was going on.

As he had been instructed, Hellboy laid his left hand over Abe's right hand, in which Abe held Kate's hair clasp. Abe gently pushed his mind deeper and deeper into Hellboy's mind searching for any pertinent memories of Kate Corrigan or Mindy Carlton. Abe used the hairpiece and Hellboy's memories as catalysts to attempt to create a direct psychic connection to the two kidnapped women. He hoped this would break down that mental wall he had described earlier as blocking this connection, but it yielded only slightly; it did not appear he would be able to penetrate it completely.

After what seemed like hours of intense contact, but was really only minutes of grueling mental effort, Abe dejectedly broke off his attempt. Beginning to feel that his usefulness as a partner to Hellboy was a failure, he slumped down in complete exhaustion on the bench. Due to the connection Abe had managed to make to his mind, some of Abe's thoughts came through to Hellboy, who was certain that unconscious resistance on his part had not made Abe's job any easier. Draping his left arm around Abe's shoulders, Hellboy wished he had something to say that would give Abe more confidence.

Abe again suffered from a pounding headache, but this was truly a tension headache due to overwork; the nausea and other weird effects that had come with his earlier headaches did not accompany it. Wordlessly shaking Hellboy's arm from his shoulder, he moved to his own seat on the left-hand side of the truck. Dropping his head in his hands, he remained silent for a long time.

Trevor Broom walked over to Hellboy, who turned toward him as he approached.

"Not as scary as I thought it was going to be. Too bad it didn't work," said Hellboy, rubbing his head, nursing a rare headache himself.

Generally skeptical toward those who claimed to have psychic powers, Hellboy was starting to place faith in Abe's unique abilities and was disappointed these efforts were for naught. When Trevor Broom went to sit down next to him, Hellboy waved him away. "I'm okay, Pop; go check on Abe."

Abe never looked up when Trevor Broom walked over to where he was sitting, head still in his hands. "Abe, I've been doing this work for long enough to know that every failure is actually nothing more than an invitation to go beyond our limitations. If you're still hitting up against a wall, maybe we need to find a way to sneak around it instead of trying to break through it."

Touching Abe's shoulder, Broom finally managed to get him to look up. "Let's get you back in your tank for a well-deserved rest. Outside of that brief period of time when you were having those strange headaches, you haven't spent enough time in water. Having been so focused on finding Kate and Mindy, both Hellboy and I have been somewhat careless of your welfare; please forgive us."

Almost too exhausted to even stand, Abe still spoke no word but allowed Hellboy to come over and assist him into his tank. "C'mon, Blue, we wouldn't even be this close if it weren't for you. I'm sure you or Pop will think of something. I know I've not been much help, but I kind've got this strange feeling we're a damn sight closer than you think. Give yourself a good, long rest and we'll see."

For the first time in a long while, Abe smiled at Hellboy and, still silent, slipped down into his tank and immediately fell asleep. Hellboy went out of the truck and Trevor Broom followed out after him.

They both greeted the new group of agents who were guarding the truck and its odd occupants. Hellboy realized that Trevor Broom must have sent the original group of agents back to the Bureau for food and rest. He wished Broom would have gone back with them, but knew his father would not return to the Bureau until this situation was resolved.

Hellboy moved to where he could see the moon, which was just past full. Trevor Broom joined him in looking up at the yet darkling sky. Street lighting made indiscernible all but the brightest planets.

"You know, Pop, I just thought of something," he said, still peering up. "It was a month ago today."

Broom did not need to ask what the 'it' was. Even though dawn was still some ways off, it was now getting into the morning after the day Kate and Mindy had been taken. That made it exactly a month since Hellboy had been possessed in Massachusetts by that demon that claimed to be his real father— a month since he had gone out of his mind, injuring both Abe and Trevor Broom.

That also made it a month since fish-man Abe Sapien had finally, suddenly started speaking after having been mute ever since his discovery in October.

Broom knew that Hellboy was having these same thoughts. "Son, I'm sure you've noticed that Abe hasn't spoken a word since he ceased his attempt to access your memories of Kate. At first I thought this was due to disappointment that his attempt did not bring the results he wished, but now I'm wondering if there may have been some neurological damage due to mental strain. After all he only started speaking a month ago today and he has been pushing himself very hard."

Absently rubbing his head, which still ached, Hellboy nodded. He continued staring at the moon as if that dead rock in space contained the secret key to what they wanted to know. Was it really only twelve hours ago that he sat with Trevor Broom on the BPRD entranceway roof watching the sunset? At that time, Broom had been successful in easing his anxiety over his unusual origins. However, these more recent events only served to reestablish and increase this uneasiness.

Sighing, Hellboy returned to the truck, beginning to wonder if it would be unwise to allow a woman to develop any relationship with him; especially a woman he cared for as much as he cared for Kate.

Trevor Broom stood looking up at the sky for a moment longer. The day before had been much warmer, even if it had snowed slightly. However, the clearing that occurred later in the day, making it possible to watch that beautiful sunset with Hellboy, had also later ushered in much colder weather. Broom heaved his own sigh, wondering if the place where Kate and Mindy were being held was cold. Finding that his tweed jacket was no longer adequately warm, he followed Hellboy into the truck.

Abe was floating in his tank, still fast asleep. "Abe's got the right idea, Pop. I think we'd both be better off if we got some sleep," Hellboy said as he arranged some blankets and pillows on the bench he had just pulled out into a bed. "Go ahead and lay down."

After looking around the truck, Trevor Broom turned to Hellboy, "Where will you sleep?"

Hellboy flopped down into his seat, "Believe me, Pop, I've slept in a lot worse places than this chair," he said with a slight smile. Smiling back, Trevor Broom stretched himself out on the hard, but not uncomfortable bench. As anxious as they both were, it was not long before exhaustion set in and Hellboy and Broom joined Abe in sleep.

* * *

_For a time Abe drifted in darkness, too drained to even dream. He eventually became aware he was bandaged up and connected with wires to various monitors and healing apparatus. He was in great pain, but that appeared to be dulled by narcotic painkillers. _

_Slowly opening his eyes, he realized he was now located in a BPRD medical holding tank in the underground facilities in Newark. Becoming more aware of his surroundings, he noticed this tank was in a small chamber with a glass wall that looked out onto a corridor. He observed this glass wall had been smashed though at some point and had been hastily repaired. _

_The next sensation Abe felt, beyond the dulled pain of his bandaged wounds, were totally overwhelming emotions of sorrow, anger, and disbelief coming at him from almost all of the multitudinous inhabitants of the BPRD main headquarters. Too weak to block out these painful emotions or to sense what dreadful event had caused them, Abe slipped back into unconsciousness. _

_This brief stint of consciousness was not sufficient to trigger the alarms hooked to the monitors that were to communicate major changes in Abe's status. If there was supposed to be any medical personnel in the chamber where the tank was located, they were no longer present. Not having been fully aware before he lost consciousness again, Abe never completely noted the frantic bustle of activity denoting some catastrophic facility-wide emergency. _

_Whether it was hours or minutes later that Abe again regained consciousness, he never found out. Now even more aware of his surroundings, he floated as close to the front of the tank as the wires would allow. He could see Hellboy seated on the floor at the foot of the wall the tank was built into. _

_Hellboy had his knees drawn up to his chest, his left arm wrapped tight around them, his right arm and huge stone hand wrapped over his left. Usually, if Hellboy was upset or agitated in some way he would lash his tail back and forth; this time it just lay limply on the floor and he leaned the left side of his head against the glass front of the tank as if attempting to be as close to Abe as possible. _

_Abe had never seen Hellboy look smaller or more forlorn; his massive shoulders were shaking as if he was weeping uncontrollably, but Abe could just barely hear a strangled sob. Wracking his memories of recent events, Abe could only recall enough to know that an operation they had been on had obviously failed; and failed badly. _

_Yet as Abe gazed more closely, seeing the flow of tears that ceaselessly rolled down Hellboy's cheeks, he knew this catastrophe was more than a mere failed operation. Abe attempted to speak to Hellboy; but even though his medical tank was equipped with speakers, his voice was too faint to be heard. _

_He then weakly pushed a mental query into Hellboy's mind, asking what had occurred. At first Abe thought this attempt at communication had gone unnoticed; but then Hellboy looked up, his eyes swollen, his face streaked with tears. _

_He looked away again. "Don't ask. Believe me, you don't want to know," he muttered. _

_Abe was filled with curiosity as to what event could have driven the usually unflappable Hellboy so far over the edge. Yes, there had been a handful of times in the past when Hellboy had almost been this distraught, but it was usually related to… _

_A sudden panic gripped Abe—where was Trevor Broom? Even though Abe had always called him 'Professor', in many ways the BPRD director was just as much a father to him as he was to his officially adopted son, Hellboy. He would usually check on Abe frequently when he had been injured. _

_Feeling a little stronger, Abe pushed a more insistent question into Hellboy's mind. Hellboy, still seated on the floor, raised his head again. The expression on his face filled Abe with dread. A weird sense of déjà vu came over Abe. _

_For some reason he knew exactly what Hellboy was going to say next. "November 1st; always knew it'd be November 1st. Just didn't know what year; now I do." Hellboy shook his head. "Pop was wrong back in '78, Blue; it was all my fault, just like I said it would be." _

_Dropping his head into his huge stone hand, Hellboy sobbed even harder as he was beset by the inescapable reality of his devastating loss. Abe felt wave upon wave of grief, guilt, and self-loathing pour out from his best friend, partner and almost-brother. In his weakened state, Abe could not prevent himself from being able to 'see' the event that had driven Hellboy to this extremity. _

_Gasping in dismay, his heart beating faster and faster, Abe attempted to drive this distressing mental image out of his head. Hellboy had been correct—he did not want to know what he now knew; he did not want to see what he was now seeing. He fruitlessly screwed his physical eyes shut against this horrible vision, wishing he had the tear ducts that would enable him to weep as Hellboy was weeping. _

_"A nightmare, this has to be nothing more than a hideous nightmare," he thought to himself. _

_Hellboy spoke, almost as if he picked up Abe's thoughts. "It's just a bad dream; the same stupid dream I've had over and over since I was a kid. But now the nightmare's real. My father's dead and he will never hide under the bed with me again to keep the monsters away." _

_The intense combination of emotional and physical trauma was too much for the badly wounded Abe and a series of alarms attached to his monitors went off. A member of the medical team rushed in. Abe was just barely aware of her addressing Hellboy. "I'm sorry, you'll have to leave. Your presence is upsetting him too much." _

_After that, everything went black and Abe floated away on a sea of nothingness. _

_At length he floated into a dimly lit tunnel, but found the way forward blocked by a wall of stone. Certain that he had to get past this wall, he investigated it closely. When it became obvious there would be no way to penetrate directly through it, he began to examine if there was a way over, around, or under this wall. _

_The water in this tunnel was very deep. Abe dove down into its murky depths; the farther down he went, the darker the tunnel became. Soon he could hardly see at all and the water was much colder. He continued going down, searching for the bottom of the tunnel. _

_When he reached it, after what seemed like hours of swimming, he found to his amazement that there was a tiny space between the bottom of the tunnel and the wall of stone. It was just large enough for him to swim through, even though it was a very tight squeeze. Having little idea what lay beyond, Abe slithered through this opening in what proved to be a very thick wall. _

_Abe found he was now swimming in a somewhat shallow basin of water with a cement roof that was just inches above the surface. It appeared to be a dead end, but when he attempted to depart the way he had come in, the hole he had entered through was gone. In fact the wall of stone was gone; there was nothing more than this completely dark basin of water. _

_Upon investigation, he found the place where he was confined was rounded in shape—probably some type of small underground reservoir. However, the water was not stagnant, indicating some sort of operational drainage system. The water in this reservoir was very still, but after swimming for a while Abe distinctly felt a gentle current of water that was flowing into the basin. _

_Swimming in the direction of that current, Abe groped the cement side of the basin until his hands encountered an inlet tunnel. The mouth of this tunnel was somewhat larger than the now vanished tunnel he had entered through, but appeared to be covered with a metal grating. _

_Abe came to realize that he had a harpoon-style weapon strapped to his back. He pulled it out from its sheath and gingerly examined it in the dark. It appeared to be sturdy enough for him to poke at the grating to see if he could loosen it and pass into the inlet tunnel. He soon discovered that the metal of the grating was corroded and the interface between the grating and the cement was weak. _

_It was not long before he was able to bash the grating loose enough to yank it out and let it drop to the bottom of the basin. Even though he had little idea of where he was going, he felt compelled to pass into this further tunnel. As he continued swimming forward in the inky blackness, he sensed that this tunnel started to curve upward. _

_He finally came to another odd chamber filled with water. It also had a stone or cement roof directly overhead; there appeared to be light filtering down through a small crevice in the surface of that roof. As his eyes adjusted to something other than pitch darkness, he discerned a metal ladder that came down into the chamber from the roof above. Carefully climbing up this damp and slippery ladder brought him to what he could now see was a trap door into a chamber above the roof. _

_Quietly pushing this open, Abe eased himself up onto a stone floor in a kind of underground chamber. He became conscious that he could hear voices and carefully moved forward toward this sound. _

_Surreptitiously crawling along the floor of the chamber, Abe ultimately made out a curiously attractive, if battered-looking, blond-headed woman tied to a wooden chair. He had never met her before, but it suddenly came to him that it was she, and the other woman tied up behind her, that he had been frantically searching for through all of the dark, twisting tunnels he swam through. _

_A British-sounding male voice was speaking. "Actually, in a way you are most correct. But the human male who calls himself his 'father' and those humans who call themselves his 'colleagues' and 'friends' are deluded if they think he can forever evade his destiny. For in reality he is nothing less than a betrayer of his own kind." _

_"And what, exactly, is my brother's 'own kind', pray tell?" queried Abe as he rose up onto his webbed feet to confront the rat-like creature that turned to face him. It was oddly dressed in a brown suit. _

_"Oh, my," intoned this creature, in a fussy voice that was almost a parody of Trevor Broom's cultured British accent, "A talking fish, how quaint." _

_Abe noticed that the blond-headed woman had been surprised by his sudden appearance, but other than that did not seem particularly startled by the fact that he was not human. _

_"I think I've been away from the Bureau for far too long," Abe heard her mutter. _

* * *

Abe slowly became aware of the sound of knuckles rapping on the glass of his tank. Opening his eyes in surprise he looked out of his portable tank into the now dimmed lighting of the truck and saw Hellboy standing there.

"Hey, Blue," Hellboy said when he finally noted that Abe was aware of him. "I've been trying to snap you out of whatever nightmare you've been having for the last ten minutes. It's a wonder you didn't wake Pop with all that noise. I actually thought you were going to kick the glass out."

Even if he was still a bit disoriented, Abe found that the sleep he had gotten, even if troubled, had made him a lot stronger. He clambered out of the tank, down to the floor of the truck.

"Well," said Hellboy with a smile, "you look like the sleep did you some good. How do you feel?"

Abe went and sat down in his seat. "Not bad, really. Funny dream I had, though. I can't remember much except swimming through dark underground tunnels and chambers searching for something."

He stopped speaking and shuddered, "But there was an earlier part of the dream that was terrifying. I don't remember much of it and, believe me, I don't want to remember it." He shuddered again, "The only thing I really remember is that something horrible happened on the first day of November."

Hellboy knelt by Abe's chair. "Jeez, I'm sorry Abe. It looks like when you went into my head you ended up getting sucked into my bad dreams. Since I was a kid I've been having the nightmare that something bad will happen on November 1st. I don't know what will happen, or how it will happen, or why, or what year; I just know that November 1st is the day the worst thing that will ever happen to me will happen." As he said this, he looked over at the still sleeping Trevor Broom.

Abe nodded, "That fits in with what I remember of the nightmare. But that dream took an interesting turn toward the end and…" He abruptly jumped up from his seat and ran over to the table that had the various maps of the tunnels and chambers under Saint Nicholas Park. He snatched one up and turned toward Hellboy.

"I know which chamber they're in, Red; I know where Kate and Mindy are being held. I saw them and their captor in my dream. And here's where it gets strange; I think they saw me."

_More to come… _

**Author's afterward:** Please don't expect Abe's nightmare journey through the underground tunnels and chambers to correspond to any actual structures under Saint Nicholas Park; it was all my own weird imagination. However, I did find some historical weather data for the locations and dates in 1978 I've been writing about. Even though my weather may be fictional, it is plausible to the historical data. The moon phase as described is also based on historical data. The Farmer's Almanac has some interesting data that can be found online.


	32. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 27

**Author's notes:** This part follows directly after Part Twenty-Six. It won't make sense without the previous parts.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty-Seven **

Hellboy stood up and strode over to where Abe was standing, still holding the map.

"You think they saw you? What's that supposed to mean? It was just a dream, right?" He tried to keep his voice down in order to avoid waking Trevor Broom, who was still sleeping.

"Yes, Red, it was just a dream; or, at least, it started out as one." Abe said as he sat down at the table and picked up a pencil. He began to jot markings on the map that related to where he was now convinced Kate and Mindy were being held captive.

"Yet, at a certain point it became a real-time experience of my astral body rather than a dream. During this time, I exchanged some words with a giant rat-like being that was dressed in a brown three-piece suit. This odd creature had two women held captive, bound to wooden chairs. One of these women, who I believed to be 'your Katie', definitely saw me and muttered something about having been away from the Bureau for far too long."

Hellboy frowned, "A rat in a three-piece suit? Are you sure you weren't still dreaming?"

Shrugging, Abe continued scribbling on the map. After a short while he looked up. "Between the suit and the way the rat spoke, it looked and sounded just like a rat trying to imitate Professor Broom. Still dreaming? Maybe; but I practiced traveling in my astral body when I was recuperating after being injured in Massachusetts and what happened just now felt like that, not like a dream."

"Still sounds like a dream to me," said Hellboy, shaking his head, "None of the giant rats seen by other people wore clothes or talked. You say you thought you saw Kate, but how do you know that wasn't just one of my memories of her coming into your dream?"

Putting down his pencil, Abe looked up at Hellboy, "I know that at one point I was definitely dreaming, but the whole feeling changed once I starting swimming through the underground tunnels. I don't really recall much of the dream before this point, but my primary impression is that once I encountered the rat in that chamber, it was no longer a dream."

Abe picked up his pencil again, pointing to a series of tunnels and chambers on the map. "I am now convinced this large chamber below the northeastern end of the park is what we are looking for. However, I cannot guarantee that the route I took in the dream to arrive there corresponds to anything on this map."

He pulled out another map that showed the aboveground structures in the park. "As you can see, there is a passage from an enclosure on the surface of the park that functioned at one time as a way for maintenance workers to have access to this chamber and the waterworks beneath it."

Abe jotted some markings on this other map, "I am certain these rat-like creatures have this enclosure guarded. There is yet another thing to be considered; if I indeed appeared before Kate and Mindy's captor in my astral body this may well cause these creatures to become more vigilant in guarding entry into the chamber from below."

Hellboy collapsed back down in his seat. "Damn," he mumbled after digesting this new information, "if you're right that it wasn't just a dream, so much for the element of surprise. What are we supposed to do? Just when we finally know where these creeps are hiding Kate and Mindy, we can't come at them from above or below."

"Perhaps we can assist you," came an unexpected and unfamiliar voice from the rear of the truck. Abe, map still in hand, jumped up in astonishment from the table where he had been seated.

"What the hell!" Hellboy shouted, as he threw himself from his seat. He came up, huge gun in hand, in a protective crouch in front of the bench where Trevor Broom was yet sleeping. "Stay down, Pop," he whispered as he felt Broom starting to sit up, the shouting having finally wakened him.

Hellboy's shout attracted the attention of the BPRD agents who were on guard outside. Pulling out their guns, they moved toward the still open rear entrance of the truck and cautiously peered inside. The agents saw a gun-wielding Hellboy crouching on the floor, Abe standing by the map-strewn table, and a drowsy, tousled-hair Trevor Broom looking up from his recumbent position on the bench.

"I can assure you, all of this aggressive display of weaponry is unnecessary," came the voice Hellboy and Abe had heard earlier. A large white cat, that was just inside the rear entrance of the truck, stepped forward and metamorphosed into a tall male figure that looked human, but still had something cat-like in his blue eyes and long white hair. "Believe me, we mean you no harm."

"Look, bud," growled Hellboy, still hovering protectively over Trevor Broom, "I'm the one who decides if you're safe or not and I'm in no mood to find out the hard way; so the guns stay." He gestured to one of the BPRD agents, "Get Pop out of here. I don't want him in the line of fire if things get hot."

Unlike his earlier adamant determination to remain on the scene, Trevor Broom knew he was still too sleepy to be of much use in this new situation. Believing it to be the better part of discretion not to burden Hellboy and Abe with the necessity to protect him, Broom complied with Hellboy's wishes. Giving a curious glance toward the mysterious stranger, he climbed out of the truck.

The stranger smiled as Broom departed, escorted by the agent. "It would have been perfectly safe for him to stay. He might even have found what I have to say informative."

Hellboy shrugged, "Yeah, maybe that's right. But I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to him on my watch. Better safe than sorry, if you know what I mean. So, what've you got to say?"

Just at this moment Lucky, the white cat Hellboy had adopted a few hours earlier as his new pet, decided to wake up and start making a fuss. The stranger looked toward the cage where Lucky had been sleeping and where he was now meowing vociferously. "Well, well, so that's where our little kleptomaniac has disappeared to."

In the midst of all of the confusion that had occurred since he had awakened Abe from his nightmare, Hellboy had forgotten all about the stray cat he had placed in the cage. "Hey, does this cat belong to you or something like that? What do mean by 'kleptomaniac'?"

"It's just one of our little jokes; this stray seems to have a taste for shiny objects and the place where he likes to sleep is filled with little things he has collected." The stranger held out his empty hands, palm upward, "I assure you I am not armed; may I go examine the cat?"

"Yeah, go ahead; but don't try anything funny." Hellboy, gun still in hand, stood aside so the stranger could approach the little white cat in the cage at the front of the truck.

The cat seemed to be familiar with the stranger and let him examine him thoroughly. "You have treated our little friend quite nicely. As far as I am concerned, this shows you can be trusted."

Turning back toward Abe and Hellboy, the stranger continued, "It has come to the attention of certain of our associates that a specific enemy of ours has been holed up in a location near here. You can be sure that any attempt to penetrate to where it is hiding will be noticed by the rodents and other small creatures it has guarding the entrances. My companions and I have means at our disposal that can neutralize these guards without our enemy's knowledge. You and your friend can then penetrate into its lair and do what you must. The question now is whether or not you are willing to trust us."

Still looking suspicious, Hellboy glanced over at Abe. "What do you think, Blue?"

Placing down on the table the map he had still been holding, Abe walked over to the stranger.

"May I attempt to read your thoughts?" When the stranger nodded, Abe placed his right hand on the stranger's forehead and concentrated in silence for a few moments.

"His name is Malachy; he is the leader of an assemblage of spirits of righteousness that often manifest physically as cats, in much the same way as their demonic enemies manifest as rats. They seldom interfere directly in human affairs, but look upon our case as unique and are willing to offer us the assistance that Malachy has just mentioned and possibly even further support."

Malachy nodded, "Yes, this is so. These giant rats are more than mere monstrous creatures; they are high-ranking demons that are divinely prohibited from acting in such a direct manner in your world. The breaking of this decree opens the way for us to assist you in a more open manner than usual."

Hellboy re-holstered the Samaritan, but still looked puzzled. "Demonic creatures act directly in this world all the time. Look at me, I'm a demonic creature; or at least I think I could've been if it wasn't for the man who adopted me. And look at the crap I'm fighting against all the time. Not sure I get what you're saying."

"Ah, but you see," Malachy said with a smile, "these monsters and demons your organization usually handles are far from the level of these creatures we are dealing with now. Demons of this magnitude are permitted only subtle means to manipulate humanity; psychic infiltration, demonic possession, clever means of evil persuasion—but the kind of direct action as they are using now is prohibited."

Looking deeply into Hellboy's glowing yellow eyes, Malachy went on, "You are an intriguing case; conceived centuries ago of a human woman in hell, who had in her youth conjured up a demon and consorted with it. Even so, the destiny you must play out is not clear to me. I have seen only your actions, and these have largely been good ones. You are a most remarkable creature and significant choices must be made before your true destiny manifests itself. These demons may be trying to force your hand; force you willing or not into a predetermined fate not of your own choosing. I and my friends are here to help you up to a point; but, in the long run, you are the one that must choose."

Hellboy turned away from Malachy's searching blue eyes with a sigh.

He then laughed. "Sometimes I feel like I need all the help I can get. I'm going to go get my father back in here. I think you're right; he really would be interested in what you have to say."

_More to come… _

**Author's afterward:** I had originally intended this part to be much longer, but life got in the way. I've got to go visit my family who lives in other states. I'm sorry that I won't be able to get back to this for at least two weeks.

Dealing with 'kleptomaniac' cats: When my sister's cat Ginger was a kitten he loved small pieces of jewelry and other shiny objects. He would collect these things and hide them in his cat bed. Once when my mother was visiting she couldn't find her watch anywhere and then one day Ginger carried her watch to her in his teeth and dropped it at her feet. (True story, honest.) However, I've made the kitten, Lucky, in this story a white cat with blue eyes in honor of my first pet cat.

I would like to thank all who have been reading this. All feedback is welcome.


	33. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 28

**Author's notes:** This part follows directly after Part Twenty-Seven, but then makes connections back to Part Twenty. Malachy: the 'ch' is pronounced as a 'k'. He is original to me and, as far as I can recall, neither he nor his name derives from anything other than my imagination.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty-Eight**

Abe had returned to his seat at the table and continued to pore over the maps he had of all of the above- and belowground structures of Saint Nicholas Park. Hellboy had gone out of the truck and came back in bringing Trevor Broom. Broom was now seated on the long bench speaking quietly with the odd being Malachy, who had indicated a wish for a private conversation.

Not wishing to appear to be eavesdropping and feeling that his own seat was too close to the bench, Hellboy went and sat in Abe's seat on the other side of the truck. Even though this seat was smaller than his own, it was still designed sturdily enough to support his weight.

Broom and Malachy quietly spoke together for a long time and Hellboy was curious what they were saying, assuming that he himself was the main topic of conversation. He got up from Abe's seat and went to join Abe at the table.

For a brief while, Hellboy looked in silence at the maps Abe was consulting. He then bent over and whispered in his ear. "Tell me, Blue, what does this Malachy character look like to you? Every time I think I've figured out what he looks like, everything seems to shift. Now that I'm not looking at him, all I can remember is his hair and eyes; nothing else, not even his clothing."

Abe nodded, "Curiously, he seemed the most physically manifest as a cat. I wonder…"

Whatever it was that Abe wondered, Hellboy never found out. Distracted by the awareness that Trevor Broom had become somewhat agitated, Hellboy could now make out what he was saying.

"No, Malachy, I don't doubt him. I have never doubted him and I never will. If there is anything I doubt, it is my own ability to deal with him. He matures so slowly that I am finding it more and more difficult to reconcile my responsibilities toward him as a father and my responsibilities toward the federal government as director of the organization that utilizes him. I have tried so hard to keep him as free as possible from unwarranted restrictions, tried to protect him from feeling more like a prisoner than a son; but I fear I will fail him in this regard and he will hate me for that failure."

Malachy was about to reply to this, when Hellboy came and stood next to where Broom was seated.

Broom looked up at him with a sigh, "I didn't mean for you to overhear that."

"It was hard not to, Father." Hellboy sat down on the bench next to Broom. "I can't promise I'll never say that I hate you. I say the stupidest crap when I'm mad. You're doing the best you can. Remember I said that; because if it all goes wrong, it will be my fault, my failure, not yours."

Broom took Hellboy's left hand into both of his own. "When that times comes we may both be to blame, I'm afraid." He touched Kate's blue ribbons wrapped around Hellboy's wrist. "I didn't notice these at first, but I know whose they are. We have more important things to do right now than waste time speculating on our future."

Broom squeezed Hellboy's hand and then looked back up at Malachy, who was still sitting waiting for Broom to resume their conversation. "I understand what you are trying to do, Malachy, but I can only take my life with him one day at a time. My only concern at this point is what we need to accomplish to rescue Kate Corrigan and Mindy Carlton; that's the best thing we can do right now. The future will just have to take care of itself."

Malachy nodded, "That future will come, however; and when it does it will not be easy. Yet, neither of you will be left without help."

Broom nodded back and letting go of Hellboy's hand stood and stretched. Never saying another word on the subject, he went and looked out of the rear of the truck at the growing light in the sky.

Arising from the bench, Malachy gestured toward Hellboy. "We have an advantage over our foe that it does not have over us," Malachy said as they went to join Abe at the table, "We now know where it is hidden, but it has less knowledge of our whereabouts or how close we are to it."

He bent over the table and looked at the maps Abe was consulting. He then turned toward Hellboy. "I believe we can also take advantage of another distraction. As far as my associates and I are aware, Abe's encounter in his astral body with this creature was real; but this event occurred outside of linear time and, in actuality, has yet to happen. If my group can neutralize this creature's guards at the same time that it is being distracted by Abe's astral projection, then you and Abe have a much better chance of taking it unawares."

Hellboy frowned slightly, "How're we supposed to know when this will be? I don't think Abe knows."

"I certainly do not, Red," Abe said shaking his head, "I just know that it happened; but if what Malachy asserts is accurate, then the 'when' is a mystery to me."

Hellboy turned toward Malachy, still mystified both by the elusiveness of his appearance and his sudden emergence on to the scene as a new help in this time of crisis.

"I'll bet you'll say that you and your buddies have your own ways of finding out."

Malachy grinned slightly as he looked closer at Abe's assemblage of maps. "We may. I will consult with them as soon as I have memorized the information on these maps; then we will see."

* * *

Kate Corrigan was more than infuriated with both the absurdity of her situation and with having to put up with the ridiculous blather that was being uttered by her rat-like captor. Rather than paying much attention to that creature droning on in that mock Trevor Broom accent, Kate pictured to herself what it would look like after Hellboy ripped it to shreds.

Although she understood that Mindy Carlton, her fellow prisoner, was understandably fearful, Kate had absolutely no uncertainty as to the eventual outcome of this situation. Hellboy wasn't one to sit around and do nothing while monsters or other demonic creatures terrorized innocent people; he was even more protective of his intimate friends and acquaintances.

Suddenly, in the midst of some idiotic nonsense about the 'human male who calls himself his father', an unfamiliar blue-gray fish-man clad in Bureau issued clothing and equipment unexpectedly rose up in front of Kate. This fish-man challenged her captor, referring to Hellboy as 'my brother'.

"Oh, my," said the rat who had shifted to confront the newcomer, "A talking fish, how quaint."

"I think I've been away from the Bureau for far too long," Kate muttered to herself.

The rat had turned away from the entrance to the underground chamber, which it considered secure. There were many small animals and animal-like demonic creatures guarding this doorway and the tunnel leading to it. In addition, the aboveground access to this passage was in an essentially concealed enclosure in a seldom-visited section of the park.

"How did you manage to get in here? I did not realize there was another passable entrance." Confident it could deal with this lone intruder on its own, the giant rat moved to seize the fish-man.

However, as the rat moved in, the fish-man unexpectedly faded into nothingness. At that very same moment there was a huge crash as the door to the chamber burst open. The chair Kate was bound to faced away from this entrance and she could not turn around far enough to see what was going on, but she was sure this new intrusion was finally Hellboy come to the rescue.

Mindy Carlton was bound facing the opposite direction from Kate. She could hear the intruder speak, but could not see him. Unlike Kate, she could see the obviously locked door into the chamber.

At almost the same time that their captor was distracted by the intruder, Mindy saw a giant red fist, apparently made of solid stone, smash through the cement door. Two figures forced their way through the ruins. The first of these Mindy recognized right away as the man who had been the guest of honor at that Halloween costume party where she had tended bar.

Mindy was too startled to even scream. Her heart practically stopped beating at the impression of bristling, fuming rage radiating out from this gigantic individual. In his more normal-sized left hand was the enormous handgun she had seen at the party and thought merely a well-constructed fake. The sheer awareness of his presence was larger than life; how could she have ever thought he was nothing more than a large man in a funny red costume?

The other being, which was directly behind, was a smaller-built fish-man. Oddly mottled dolphin-gray skin showed from under his tight-fitting black outfit. He was armed with some type of harpoon gun. Even though more slender, he appeared just as dangerously angry as his colossal-sized partner.

Hellboy's heart really only had eyes for one person in that room; the one person he couldn't see from the vantage point of his entrance. Yet he was more than aware, from his many decades of experience in dealing with monsters and demons, of what was truly important—the giant black rat turning in confusion toward its no longer existent door. His heart-wrenching concern for Kate Corrigan had to wait until he dealt with this creature that oddly was clad in a way that reminded him of Trevor Broom.

"All right, fur face," snarled Hellboy through gritted teeth, "you've got someone more your own size to pick on now. Why not do it the easy way and just let the girls go?"

If the rat was disconcerted by this aggressive incursion into its chamber, it did not show anything.

"Oh, my, the easy way? I don't think so, demon; at least not for you, a traitor to his own kind."

Hefting his cannon-sized gun a little higher, Hellboy moved closer to the rat, which was about a foot shorter than he was. "Look, pal, I've got no problem with you and your paranormal buddies living your measly paranormal lives in your stupid little paranormal realms. But when you turn up here scaring the bejesus out of people, stealing poor parents' little kids, or damning their immortal souls; that I've got a huge problem with."

He moved in a little closer, "And I don't see that nasty bullies like you are my own kind. I've been protecting defenseless people against the likes of you almost my whole life. Not planning on quitting."

At this the rat drew out of its pocket a shiny antique Zippo Indian head lighter and then proceeded to relight the cigarette it had in its holder. After a few puffs on this, it gave Hellboy a little smile.

"And what's the idea," growled Hellboy, "of standing there and aping my father to my face. Everything you have looks exactly like his stuff, except for that idiotic cigarette."

The infuriating rat grinned even more broadly. "Except for the cigarette, everything is your father's. Maybe he never told you that his apartment in Brooklyn had an infestation of rats a few months ago. I'm afraid he has yet to notice that some things have gone missing since that time."

Everyone was following this altercation between Hellboy and rat with intense interest; all could sense Hellboy's fury increasing exponentially. He pointed his gun directly at the rat's head.

"I don't give a damn about a few clothes, but I want that lighter back. He may not smoke, but that was a Christmas present from me way back and he always kept it on display in his china cabinet. Give it back or you'll be really sorry."

The rat shrugged. "Big words, demon. But, you see, you have no power here. Go ahead; shoot me with your big gun or punch me out with your big fist. Let's see how far that will get you."

_More to come… _


	34. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 29

**Author's notes:** This part follows directly after Part Twenty-Eight. Some of what goes on between Hellboy and the giant rat vaguely derives from Hellboy's confrontations with various paranormal characters in Mike Mignola's original Hellboy comics or in the Hellboy related short stories written by other authors. Many of these conflicts deal with him fulfilling his true destiny. Let me remind you of the 'T' (PG13) rating. Language is becoming more emphatic. It will become more violent and sexuality will be hinted at, but it will never become graphic.

**Disclaimer**: I should remind you that the main characters do not belong to me and have been borrowed from Mike Mignola and Guillermo del Toro. Even though Kate Corrigan does not appear in the film, she is not original to me and derives from the Mignola comics. My own original characters are mainly functional to the plot I've constructed. However, some have decided to take on a life of their own and may turn up in other of my Hellboy fics.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Twenty-Nine**

Abe could sense the tension between Hellboy and his demonic rat-like foe building to explosive levels by the second. He watched with foreboding as Hellboy pointed his huge gun directly at the rat's head, which even more infuriatingly had a fedora hat stolen from Trevor Broom set upon it at a rakish angle.

"I don't give a damn about a few clothes," Hellboy said with a barely controlled fury, "but I want that lighter back. He may not smoke, but that was a Christmas present from me way back and he always kept it on display in his china cabinet. Give it back or you'll be really sorry."

The rat shrugged. "Big words, demon. But, you see, you have no power here. Go ahead; shoot me with your big gun or punch me out with your big fist. Let's see how far that will get you."

To Abe's surprise, Hellboy lowered his gun and laughed heartily. "The hard way; it never fails that these goddamn monsters have to do it the hard way. 'Why not do it the easy way and just let the girls go?' That's what I said before; but, oh no, you've still got to do it the hard way."

Hellboy again raised his gun to the rat's head. "You know, furball, this gun's not just an ordinary gun. It's called the Good Samaritan and I make the bullets myself. They're filled with loads of special stuff that's just right for wiping out creeps like you. You can't say I didn't give you a chance; but since you're standing there and asking me to shoot you, I think I'll oblige."

This altercation was going on at an angle that Mindy could not witness, but she could hear everything that was going on. When the colossal explosion of Hellboy's gun went off, she screamed and wished she could clap her bound hands over her ears.

Kate Corrigan had turned her head aside in order to avoid the gore flying from the no-longer intact head of her captor. Having seen Hellboy in action several times in the past, Kate, even though revolted by what she had to witness, was not as disturbed as poor Mindy.

"Why do they always have to do it the hard way?" Kate heard Hellboy mutter as he stooped to pick up the thankfully intact Zippo lighter. As he shoved it into a pocket of his coat, he gave her a small grin. "At least I can give this lighter back to Pop, but I'm afraid the suit and hat are a waste."

Kate grinned back, "What took you so long, anyway, Hellboy? And who's that cute fish-guy you brought with you? Seems like there's been some changes at the Bureau since I went to Hungary."

"Changes for the better, Katie; really a lot better," Hellboy said as he ripped off the ropes binding her, "If it wasn't for Abe, I don't think I ever would've tracked you down. For a while it seemed like you guys just disappeared from the face of the Earth."

Kate had been bound to that chair for so long her arms and legs were numb. After Hellboy untied her, he helped her stand and work some feeling back into her legs. He then gently smoothed back her dark-blond hair, "You've let your hair grow out again. Maybe this will help." Reaching into an inside pocket of his coat, he drew out her now rather battered looking silver hair clasp.

"I'd help you with it," he said, handing it to her, "but I never could figure out how it opened. It's a little worse for wear, I'm afraid."

She laughed, "I'm just glad to have it back, Hellboy. I thought it was gone for good." Pulling her hair back, she expertly attached the clasp, which though slightly bent still worked. "I don't have many gifts from you and hated the idea of losing it. I can't believe you were lucky enough to find it."

Hellboy gently touched his left hand to Kate's cheek. "Lucky; that's sure the right word. If it weren't for that clasp, I don't think we would have found you. As soon as I get you out of here, I'll have to tell you the whole big, strange story."

Hellboy wanted nothing more than to take Kate into his arms and kiss her right then and there, but he was concerned about Mindy Carlton. They both could hear her sobbing hysterically.

Kate leaned up and lightly kissed Hellboy's cheek, "Go ahead and check on Mindy. I'll still be here when you get back."

With great reluctance, Hellboy turned away from her and found Abe kneeling next to Mindy. He had unbound her and was trying to calm her down.

Mindy looked up when Hellboy knelt next to Abe and touched her shoulder. "Hey, kid, sorry about the noise and the mess. In a way it's really my fault all this happened. Katie's kind've gotten used to this crap by now, but I'm really sorry you had to get dragged into it."

Mindy bravely struggled to collect herself. She finally managed to give Hellboy a little smile; he didn't seem half so frightening to her as he had seemed when he busted through the door.

Kate had started walking around the chamber to get more circulation back into her legs. She was careful to avoid the carcass of her former captor, but couldn't help looking at it from time to time. While Hellboy was still talking with Mindy, Kate saw something that made her look at it more closely.

"Um, Hellboy," she called out, running toward him, "There's something weird going on here and I don't think you're going to like it." Hellboy stood up and swung around toward Kate, not believing what he was seeing.

The headless body of the giant rat that he had just obliterated had stood back up on its hind legs. With amazing speed the fragments of its head floated into the air and coalesced—eventually settling back down on the rat's neck. On the floor, the bits and pieces of Trevor Broom's stolen fedora hat were knitting themselves back together.

"What the hell," Hellboy groaned, reaching for his gun again, "Why won't the damn thing stay dead?"

"I warned you it would not be so easy for you, demon," said the rat, bending and retrieving the hat, which it again placed at a rakish angle on its newly restored head. With a flick of a hand-like forepaw, it summoned the Indian head Zippo lighter from the pocket Hellboy had placed it in. Taking a hold of the lighter, the rat relit the cigarette it again held in a fancy holder.

Hellboy, who had tried to snatch the lighter as it floated out of his pocket, moved toward his reconstituted foe. "Goddamn it," he shouted, "give me back that lighter and get the hell out of here before I rip you to pieces with my bare hands!"

The rat merely snickered and returned the lighter to a pocket of its stolen dark-brown wool vest.

Realizing that attempting to shoot again would be fruitless, Hellboy launched himself headlong at his irritating antagonist. However, at the moment he tried this, he abruptly found himself unable to move or even breathe. Upon seeing this, Abe rushed forward and shot the demonic creature. The projectile launched from his harpoon gun drove into its chest with a most satisfying squelch.

The rat dropped the cigarette it had been smoking and stared in amazement at the thin metal arrow now protruding from its chest. Reaching up, it grasped the shaft.

"I would not do that, if I were you," Abe stated matter-of-factly, "If you try to pull it out, the barbs on the shaft will merely rip your chest to shreds."

As Abe was speaking, Hellboy found himself able to move again; but he could do nothing more than feebly sink to the floor. Feeling as if he had been deprived of air for a very long time, he was unable to do anything except lie on the floor where he had fallen.

The rat calmly looked up from its contemplation of the metal shaft impaling it; rather than appearing to be in pain, it looked amused. "Aggressive for a fish, aren't you?"

With an audible grunt, the rat yanked the shaft from its chest. The barbs ripped through its pelt and tore large rents into the white shirt and brown wool vest. A pool of its blood puddled up on the floor.

With an arcane gesture, the rat banished the mess from the floor. At the same time, its wounds were completely healed and the rents in the clothing vanished. Abe's harpoon gun dropped to the floor as he found himself frozen, as Hellboy had been earlier. Kate and Mindy rushed toward the smashed door to the chamber, but encountered an invisible barrier blocking them from leaving.

The rat turned to Hellboy, who was still lying helpless. "As King David once said, 'How the mighty have fallen, and the weapons of war perished!' The Second Book of Samuel can be quite expressive, don't you think?"

Nudging Hellboy with a hind paw, the rat turned away again. "Get up from the floor. You disgust me. As strong as you are, you could be so much more than you are allowing yourself to be."

Hellboy found himself just barely able to stand again. "So, I disgust you; big deal. I don't care one single damn bit what you think of me." He shook himself, feeling almost as if he had been tied up for a long time like Kate and Mindy. "Look, you've proven you're stronger than me; I'll admit that. You've pretty much got me where you want me; so why don't you just let the rest of them go?"

Looking over at Kate and Mindy, who were now huddled next to the still paralyzed fish-man, the rat shook its head. "I'm not planning on making it that easy for you, demon. However, I do think I will make things easier for myself. This need to constantly defend my physical manifestation against attack grows tiresome. You may choose one of these women and I will allow that one to depart with your so-called 'brother', that aggressive fish-man. You and the other woman will stay with me until I decide what I want to do with you."

Hellboy struggled against the rat's mysterious control. It glared at him. "Stop that; like I said earlier, you have no power here. Make a decision, or I will just kill them."

Even though unable to move, Abe could follow everything that was going on. He attempted to read Hellboy's mind, but found the thoughts he encountered to be strangely ambiguous.

He saw Hellboy's shoulders sag in defeat. "Can't I think about it first?"

The rat smiled, "Certainly; I'm in no particular hurry."

Finding he could walk again, Hellboy moved to Kate's side and gently wrapped his huge right hand around her waist. Cupping her chin in his left hand, he looked into her face for a long, slow moment; then drew her up into the most desperately passionate kiss she had ever experienced.

Mindy turned her face away, tears starting to form. It was apparent to her that Hellboy was going to choose Kate. After all, why would he choose a virtual stranger over a woman he so clearly loved?

"Excuse me," the rat finally interjected, "your manner of 'thinking' is very touching, but has lasted quite long enough. Obviously, you have made a decision."

Taking a deep breath, Hellboy turned back toward the rat. "Yeah, I've decided; let Abe take Mindy."

_More to come…_

Scripture quote above is from the New Revised Standard Version, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.


	35. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 30

**Author's notes:** This part follows directly after Part Twenty-Nine. It won't make sense without the previous parts. It certainly was not my original intention to make this chapter quite so long, but Abe, Hellboy, Broom, Kate and company had other ideas. Thanks to those who have been following this. All feedback will be welcome. (P.S. Wish me a happy birthday. Yesterday was my special day and I spent most of it in a dress rehearsal for a big concert. The concert was earlier today: Haydn Lord Nelson Mass and Te Deum. The concert went very well, but cut into my writing time, so this part is a little shorter than intended.)

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Thirty**

There was a small group of BPRD agents stationed outside the Saint Nicholas Park enclosure containing a passageway that descended into an underground chamber. Abe Sapien had been certain that it was in this chamber giant rats had Kate Corrigan and Mindy Carlton held against their will.

These agents were beginning to get fidgety. It was now over an hour since Abe and Hellboy had descended this passageway and they were unable to make radio contact; due, they assumed, to the composition of the materials in the underground tunnel and chamber. Just about the time some of the agents were considering descending the passageway themselves, they heard soft footsteps ascending the stairs that lead from the underground tunnel to a doorway in the enclosure.

They were relieved at first when Abe Sapien exited the enclosure carrying a woman, dressed in jeans and a green sweatshirt, in his arms. She was unconscious, but apparently unharmed. The agents were again concerned, however, when there was no sign of Hellboy or Professor Kate Corrigan.

As Abe carried Mindy in his arms, he couldn't help recalling what had occurred just a few minutes before in the chamber where she had been confined for so many hours.

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Hellboy turned back toward the rat. "Yeah, I've decided; let Abe take Mindy."

"Me?" Mindy was taken aback, her moment of self-pity gone, "Why me instead of Kate? You hardly even know me." She walked closer to him, "I won't go without Kate, and that's flat."

Hellboy exhaled noisily, trying to remind himself that he was angry with the situation, with that damn irritating demonic rat, not Mindy, "Look, kid, I've got a job to do and this's the only way I can do it. When this thing first came up, no one even knew Katie was involved; anyway, I promised your father. If there's one thing I learned from Pop, it's you don't break promises."

Suddenly everything that Mindy had gone through really got to her. "No! I won't go without Kate and no one can make me!" she cried, becoming even more hysterical than she had been earlier.

The rat found this all most amusing. "Well, if she truly wishes to stay we should bow to her wishes, don't you think? However, that fish-man must leave even if she does not."

Abe tried to calm Mindy down, to make her see reason. He also wondered about Hellboy's seeming calm through all of this. Abe hadn't known Hellboy all that long, but thought he knew him well enough to suspect that Hellboy had given up to this rat way too easily.

At the same time that he was coaxing Mindy to calm down, Abe cautiously pushed a silent query toward Hellboy; not certain if the rat could pick up projected thoughts. _'Red, are you sure about this?'_

Wanting to distract the rat from this silent exchange, Hellboy moved closer. "Now look here, stupid," he shouted at Mindy, "Get the hell out of my hair; I've still got a job to do and you're not helping me."

As Mindy's hysteria mounted even higher, Hellboy carefully projected back to Abe, _'Seems to me he's going to a lot of trouble to get rid of you. Maybe he's not really as strong as he appears.'_

Certain that further coaxing or reasoning with Mindy would be fruitless, Abe planted the suggestion into her mind that she would do well to faint at this point in time; which feat she promptly managed, almost too quickly for him to catch her.

As Abe lunged to catch the now unconscious Mindy before she hit the floor, he mused on the idea that the rat had really seemed oblivious to his mental exchange with Hellboy. Either this demonic creature was a very good actor, or it was truly unable to pick up on their thoughts. Abe suspected the latter.

"How convenient for you that she fainted instead of carrying on further," the rat moved closer to Abe, who was now holding the unconscious Mindy in his arms. "Very well, you may take her and depart."

Before Abe left, he turned to take a silent farewell of Hellboy and Kate. He noticed that even though he had only just met Kate, he felt so close to her; so aware of how attractive she was. Abe presumed this could be mainly due to the effects of having delved into Hellboy's memories of her.

Yet, the idea that this attraction may be only an echo of Hellboy's attraction still did not make it any easier to stop noticing that Kate filled out her plaid blouse and jeans quite nicely. However, Abe had enough experience of Hellboy's tendency toward jealousy to decide that no matter what happened he would keep this attraction to himself; at least for the time being.

As he was pondering this, he noted that on the collar of her blouse was a stud that matched the one he had on his own collar; the old-fashioned shirt stud Hellboy had gifted him with so many hours before as a sign of their new partnership.

He was certain this stud had not been there when they first arrived to rescue her. Hellboy must have slipped it to her at some point since he kissed her. Abe then noted that Hellboy also had one just like it attached to the collar of his leather coat. These studs probably all derived from a matching set that once belonged to the grandfather who had raised Trevor Broom. Abe assumed that Hellboy had several of these stashed in one of the pouches of his belt.

'_Think you can make a psychic connection between these buttons, Blue? Maybe we could keep a link that way; in case we get moved or something.' _The thought came just as Abe was starting to leave.

Only someone who knew Abe as well as Hellboy did could recognize that he smiled; just before he turned away and bore Mindy out through the smashed doorway toward freedom.

'_Might be interesting to try. By the way, Red, as far as I can tell, rat-face can't pick up on this form of communication. We might be able to use this to our advantage. I will return here as soon as I deliver Mindy to Professor Broom. She should be safe with him and his agents until we figure out how to get you and Kate out of here.'_

Abe had waited until he was a distance away before projecting this thought back toward Hellboy; waiting until he was at the stairs that led upward from the tunnel to the enclosure in the northeastern end of the park above. It was time to start testing the range of this form of communication.

'_Gotcha. See you later, Blue, and tell the kid I'm really sorry I yelled at her.'_

Abe was impressed; maybe there was something to the idea of a psychic connection between these matching shirt studs. He would have to work on that more after he had delivered Mindy to safety.

* * *

Walter Carlton must have been on his tenth pot of coffee. Out of the little window at the end of the kitchen in his daughter's Carmine Street studio apartment, he watched the dawn growing in the sky. The area where he was standing wasn't even big enough for a table. Mindy always swore that she could reach anything from anywhere in any cupboard just by standing in the middle of her kitchen.

Looking at the time on the clock built into her stove, he wearily noted that it was almost half past six in the morning now. He had virtually done nothing since he had arrived there the evening before but pace back and forth from the kitchen, making one pot of coffee after another.

He knew it would have been better if he had lain on the bed in her bedroom alcove and tried to sleep. Yet, his concern for his daughter's welfare made even the very idea of sleep repulsive; he could barely even make himself sit down.

He again paced back out into the room that functioned both as Mindy's living room and dining room, wondering if he would ever see her stand in her kitchen again. One way or another, during the earlier hours of moonlit darkness, he had managed to keep this same thought at bay. Somehow, it seemed even worse to finally think it now as dawn crept into the sky.

Setting his mug of coffee down on a table in the living room, he again collapsed onto her small couch. Finally dropping his head in his hands, he sobbed out an ocean of tears he had been holding in for almost nine hours; tears, that once started, he knew he would never be able to stop.

Just about twenty minutes later, Carlton was sobbing so hard that, at first, he did not hear the telephone in Mindy's bedroom alcove ring. He abruptly ceased, gasping for breath. When he realized what had interrupted his anguished weeping, he leapt up from the couch heedlessly knocking over the table that held his now cold mug of coffee.

Dashing into the bedroom, he snatched up the receiver of the telephone on the nightstand.

"What? What is it? What news?" he managed to get out. One brief conversation later, he had fallen to his knees, clutching the receiver to his chest and sobbed even harder than before.

His daughter Mindy was safe and he would see her within the hour.

After cleaning up the coffee he had spilled, Walter Carlton made a fresh pot. He then, if anything, paced even more than previously. The hour promised by Trevor Broom seemed more like a century. Finally, he heard the buzzer and ran to push the button that released the lock on the lobby entrance.

Rather than waiting for the doorbell to ring, he threw open Mindy's front door and seemed to wait another eternity for the old, wheezy elevator to arrive to the fourth floor.

Interestingly, once that longed for moment finally arrived, everything seemed to happen so fast as to make Carlton's head spin. At first, it seemed like the elevator door was opening in slow motion. However, the next thing he knew his daughter, Mindy, had flung herself into his arms; not weeping, but clinging as if she never wanted him to let her go again.

Carlton half-dragged, half-carried Mindy back into her apartment. Slowly walking toward the couch, he gently sat down on it and drew her into his lap, cradling her head on his chest. He never even noticed how awkward this was now that Mindy was full-grown; she was still her daddy's little girl and he felt he could sit like that for hours and never tire of holding the daughter he had almost lost.

Eventually looking up, Carlton found that Trevor Broom had quietly sat himself down on a chair at the table in the dining alcove. "Professor, I…my gratitude is…can't thank…" Carlton broke down unable to say anything more.

Broom smiled sadly, "Please, I need no thanks. I was merely doing the job I have been given to do. Unfortunately, however, this job is far from over. My son…"

Before he could finish, Mindy lifted her head from her father's chest. "Daddy, you don't know the whole story yet. Whatever that dreadful rat wants, I'm not completely sure; but it's still holding Professor Corrigan and that Hellboy guy hostage."

Mindy stopped and took a deep breath; Carlton noticed that she was almost on the verge of tears. "Hellboy, he…" she almost completely broke down and then managed to blurt out in a rush of words, "He chose me; he said that he made you a promise and that's why he chose me instead of…"

Breaking off, Mindy shoved herself up from her father's lap and turned to Trevor Broom.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I know I should feel more grateful. Hellboy meant well, I know that; but he saved me at someone else's expense. I can't take that; I just can't." Standing up from the couch, Walter Carlton tried to take Mindy in his arms again.

She shoved him away and running into her bedroom, slammed the door behind her. Due to the very thin walls separating the bedroom alcove from the living room, it wasn't hard to hear that she had thrown herself down on her bed and was now sobbing as if her heart would break.

Walter Carlton hardly even remembered sitting back down on the couch. Trevor Broom quietly went into the kitchen and after digging around in the cupboards, came back with two mugs of the freshly brewed coffee. He handed one to Carlton, who took a deep drink of his before he even realized much of what he was doing. He looked up at Broom, who was again seated at the table in the dining alcove.

"Mr. Carlton, I hope you don't mind that I helped myself to some of your excellent coffee. I know I'm usually a tea drinker; but since I've been going on so little sleep this coffee is very welcome."

Rising from the couch, Walter Carlton came to join Broom at the table. "I must apologize for my impoliteness in not offering you something after everything you've done for me and my daughter. From what my daughter said earlier, I gather that your son and Professor Corrigan are still in danger, or possibly even destroyed by that hideous creature. Is this truly so?"

"It appears that way," Broom said, as he took another drink of his coffee, "and yet my son has been defeating the most dreadful creatures since he was nine years old. I'm truly worried for him, but I refuse to give up hope. I believe I understand something of what he may be up to; if he must be held hostage together with some woman, he realizes he will have a better chance of getting both of them away if that woman understands something of what they are up against. Frankly, I can think of no other woman better equipped for this than Kate Corrigan."

Taking a final drink of his coffee, Broom then arose from the table and held out his hand to be shaken. "I'm afraid I must leave now, Mr. Carlton. I truly wish I could stay and help you comfort Mindy, but my agents and I must go to where we will be of the most use to my son."

Seizing the proffered hand, Carlton pulled Broom into a tight embrace. "You said that you didn't want my thanks, but I have to thank you anyway. My wife Margaret died of cancer when Mindy was only twelve years old. I could never bear to lose Mindy since she is practically all I have left of my wife. When your son saved my daughter, he also saved my very life."

Broom sighed and then smiled; but Carlton did not see the smile in his eyes, which looked very sad. "I understand what it is like to have an only child mean that much to you. It becomes the most difficult when you come to realize that you can't protect them from everything." Pulling away from Carlton's embrace, Broom retrieved the coat he had slung over one of the chairs at the dining table.

Looking at the coat he held in his hands, Broom shook his head. "My son; I would die a million times over for him. However, I know he will eventually find himself totally alone and the only person who will be able to save him is also the one person he keeps trying to run from; himself."

As Broom pulled on the coat, he smiled again; this time Carlton noted that the smile reached his eyes.

"Somewhere deep down inside of me, I know that I will not outlive my son. Recently, just about a month ago, my son was almost taken from me; part of me absolutely panicked, another part of me kept insisting that it wasn't supposed to happen that way. Like any father, I always worry about him; but I'm still alive and he has yet to be taken from me. I find that fact very reassuring."

Broom turned to leave, but Carlton stopped him. "Is there anything I can do to help my daughter? She seems so distraught."

Broom sighed, "We were able to save your daughter, but we unfortunately were not able to spare her a traumatic experience. My organization has professional counselors, better equipped than many, who can help Mindy deal with this. If you will allow me, I will contact you as soon as I can. The best you can do for her right now is to just be with her."

Carlton nodded, "I wish you every good luck again. I hate having my daughter saved at the expense of your son or his friend; even if they eventually do escape from that horrible creature."

_More to come..._


	36. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 31

**Author's notes:** This part follows directly after Part Thirty. This is finally winding to its conclusion and won't make sense without the previous parts. Thanks, to all who have been following this.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Thirty-One**

'_Think you can make a psychic connection between these buttons, Blue? Maybe we could keep a link that way; in case we get moved or something.'_ Hellboy projected this thought at Abe Sapien just as he was departing the underground chamber bearing an unconscious Mindy Carlton in his arms.

At least ten or fifteen minutes later, Hellboy caught Abe's projected reply: '_Might be interesting to try. By the way, Red, as far as I can tell, rat-face can't pick up on this form of communication. We might be able to use this to our advantage. I will return here as soon as I deliver Mindy to Professor Broom. She should be safe with him and his agents until we figure out how to get you and Kate out of here.'_

Hellboy projected back, '_Gotcha. See you later, Blue, and tell the kid I'm really sorry I yelled at her.' _Even though Abe returned no further communication, Hellboy caught a whiff of what he was thinking; Abe was impressed with the range of this form of communication and suspected that some sort of psychic connection between the matching shirt studs was, indeed, helping.

After Abe left with Mindy, Hellboy sank to the floor, apparently in total defeat. He leaned despondently against one of the dank walls of the chamber. As Kate dropped down next to him, he gathered her up into his lap and buried his face in her hair.

Reaching up, Kate caressed the side of his face; she had never seen him so dejected, not even in 1959 when they had first met and Trevor Broom was gravely ill with cancer.

"God, Hellboy," she murmured, "My hair must be filthy by now."

'_Peaches; did anyone ever tell you your hair smells like peaches, Katie?'_ Kate was startled to 'hear' a voice very much like Hellboy's projected into her mind.

"How…what?" she began to blurt out, when Hellboy grabbed her up into a huge passionate kiss.

'_Not completely sure how this's working,' _came Hellboy's 'mental' voice again, _'But whatever you hear me say in your mind, don't let **it** see you react; just get ready to run when I say run.'_

Hellboy had continued kissing Kate even during this mental communication. He felt Kate cautiously nod her consent to his request. He deepened the kiss even further. _'That's my brave Katie.'_

"Ugh, how nauseating," said their giant rat-like captor, as that breath-taking kiss came to an end, "You could be one of the most powerful beings in this universe and yet you choose to align yourself with this weak, insignificant human woman. What you see in these human creatures is beyond me. You have so identified with them as to almost become human yourself."

Hellboy looked up at the giant rat and shrugged. "Makes me better than you, I'd say. And why not try to be as human as I can? Jeez, human is all I know. It's the way I was raised."

The rat walked closer. Despite still being dressed in a suit of clothes stolen from Trevor Broom's Brooklyn apartment, it was beginning to sound less and less like him. "You speak truly, demon; human is, indeed, all you were raised to know. However, you could know so much more: your real father, for instance. A month ago you were offered that exact chance, and yet you dared to reject it."

'_Remember, Katie; run when I say run and don't look back and don't worry 'bout me. Just run out that door and Abe should be there to help you by then.' _Hellboy projected that thought toward Kate as he again stood to confront their captor.

"You guys just don't get it, do you? I've said it before and I'll say it again: I've already got a father; don't need another one. Trevor Broom took me in when I needed to be taken in and protected me when I needed to be protected. He adopted me and raised me as his own son. Because he chose me, I choose him; end of story."

"That story is far from over, demon," the rat took another nonchalant puff of the cigarette in its elegant holder before going on, "In the end, you will have no choice; your destiny must be fulfilled and it will be fulfilled or we will take your life from you. These are the only two outcomes open to you."

"Look, there's only one 'destiny' I want to fulfill and one outcome that really interests me," Hellboy said with a laugh, "It has to do with a great Charlie Chaplin flick that's on TV tonight, a few bottles of some really good beer, and sexy Katie here."

Making a dismissive gesture, the rat said, "You could be so much more potent than this mundane humanity you so admire. They call you 'Hellboy'; that is no name, it is merely a description of where they think you hail from. That is the true source of your weakness here. I know exactly who I am and where my true allegiance lies; you, on the other hand, do not."

"Oh, shove it up your ass," Hellboy muttered. He then began to maneuver Kate through projected mental instructions, so that she was as near to the door as possible. The whole time he was doing this he continued speaking to the rat, "You know, after that demon tried to get at me last month, I got bothered about not knowing what kind of creature I really was. But my father has helped me see things in a different way. He's right, it's not what I used to be that matters, but what I am right now."

"But, you see, demon," the rat said as it moved closer to Hellboy, "you have absolutely no clue as to what you are right now."

"I know exactly what I am and always will be—the son of Trevor Broom." As Hellboy spoke, he shifted to block the rat's view of Kate, furtively removing something from one of the pouches of his belt.

"You know," Hellboy continued, as he moved closer to the rat with slow deliberation, "now that I come to think of it, my father had me baptized when I was five. I've got a real name and it ain't Hellboy; it's Trevor, says so right on my baptismal certificate. Pop's always taught me this baptism made me a new person. I don't think this Trevor's such a bad person to be, so I think I'll stick with that."

The rat shook its head. "I assure you that absolutely nothing can stand in the way of your predetermined role in this universe, demon. No silly Catholic rituals can ever free you from that fate."

"Fate, who gives a damn about fate," growled Hellboy, "You keep telling me I only have two choices: fulfill this destiny you keep droning on about, or die. Well, I choose door number three; it's my goddamn life and I'll live it the way I want to live it."

The rat was curious to note a new show of strength in one that really should be completely powerless in the current situation. "I see the others are correct; now is not the opportune time. However, when that time comes we will definitely have to dispose of that human male you so erroneously refer to as your father. He has far too great a hold over you."

Kate had followed all of Hellboy's mentally projected instructions to the letter and was now poised as near as she could get to the smashed-in door of the chamber. She watched this whole confrontation between Hellboy and that demonic rat-like creature with intense interest. Hellboy was obviously not as defeated as he had pretended to be earlier. She saw him slip something into the palm of his huge stone hand, closing it into a fist as he moved even closer to the rat.

"His only hold over me is love. I never could quite get what he saw in me, but he has always loved me and I know he always will. I won't have you or anyone else threatening him, not as long as I'm there to protect him. And I always will be; I can promise you that."

The rat pulled another cigarette out of a vest pocket and inserted it into the holder. Lighting it with the Indian head Zippo he had stolen from Trevor Broom, he shrugged. "Promises are made to be broken, demon. You will come to rue the day that you break the one you just made. It is the very stuff your nightmares are made of. I know this; I have seen it."

"No!" Hellboy suddenly shouted, leaping forward and bringing his huge stone fist crashing into the rat's stomach. "I will never leave my father unprotected; never!" Before the rat could recover from the blow, Hellboy grabbed a hold of the creature by the dark-brown vest it was wearing.

"Run, Kate! Run now!" Hellboy shouted.

"Tu Sancte Michael Archangele, princeps militiae caelestis, cum omnibus milibus angelorum ora pro me ut eripiat de potestate adversariorum meorum!" As Hellboy cried out this invocation to the leader of the hosts of heaven and his angelic troops, two things happened at almost the same time.

One was that the invisible barrier that was still blocking the exit from the chamber ceased with a suddenness that almost caused Kate to stumble as she ran into the tunnel as directed. The other was that as Hellboy opened his stone fist and let what he was holding touch the forehead of the still stunned rat, the rat's body disappeared in a sulfurous vapor. Trevor Broom's stolen suit of clothing fell empty to the floor of the chamber.

"So much for your physical manifestation, whiskers," Hellboy rumbled, as he shoved the Russian Orthodox Saint Michael engraved soldier's nametag back into the pouch it had come out of.

He had little idea of why he even recalled he had been carrying that piece of memorabilia from the time he had served in Argentina. Dmitri, the same Russian man who had taught him to read and speak Russian, had given him that nametag. Not that Dmitri himself had worn that during the war; good Soviet soldiers no longer carried images of saints and archangels into battle, at least not openly.

'_Blue, you out there? Is Katie okay?'_

Hellboy impatiently waited for a reply that seemed to take forever to come. _'Don't worry, Red, she's just fine. I've just been explaining to her how we've been communicating. Kate doesn't want to go to the surface until you come as well. Do you need any assistance in there?'_

'_Nah, everything's under control. Just a few more things need taken care of.' _Hellboy reached into an inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a bottle of holy water.

He stooped and retrieved the Zippo lighter that dropped from the rat's grasp as it had vanished. Pulling a handkerchief out of another pocket, he wetted it with the holy water and very carefully washed the lighter. Sprinkling some more holy water on the handkerchief, he wrapped the lighter in it before placing it into an inner pocket of his coat. He planned to let Ed Kelly, the best priest and exorcist he knew, examine it before he returned it to Trevor Broom.

Stooping down again, he looked at the dark-brown three-piece suit, white shirt, and dark tie that had been stolen from Trevor Broom's apartment. He was careful not to touch them. Again taking the bottle of holy water, he sprinkled it on the unsalvageable clothing. He then pulled out a small, flat canister that contained extra fluid for his ubiquitous Zippo lighters and poured it over the clothing.

Using a battered lighter he pulled out from a pocket of his leather pants, he applied the flame to the clothing while he recited another Latin invocation. "Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei. In odorem suavitatus. Tu autem effugare, diabole. Appropinquabit enum judicum Dei."

As he stood, watching the clothing burn into a charred mass of wool, cotton, and silk, he recited in English, "I cast out you noxious vermin, through the same Christ our Lord, who shall come to judge the living and the dead, and the world by fire."

The flames consuming the clothing unexpectedly surged up, almost to the ceiling of the chamber. Hellboy stepped back a little; he may have been proof against destruction by fire, but, outside of his stone hand, he could sense pain when burned just like any other person.

As he came to realize that this purging fire was going to eventually consume the entire chamber and everything contained within it, Hellboy turned and ran out into the tunnel beyond.

"You have won this skirmish. But the true battle has yet to be enjoined. Remember the promise you just made to always protect that human male you call Father; the time you break that promise will be the beginning of the end."

Hellboy stopped running. He swung back toward the fire-engulfed chamber the voice appeared to be issuing from. "I said I would never leave him unprotected and I meant it," he shouted, "I will forever be there for him; you can count on that."

"There is a lot we are counting on," said the dark voice, "Forever is a very long time, but we can wait."

Just as the voice stopped speaking, the chamber collapsed into itself in a shower of smoke and ashes.

As Hellboy turned away, again running along the tunnel toward the stairs leading up to the surface of Saint Nicholas Park, he found that he was weeping.

_More to come…_

_**Author's afterword:** The invocation to Saint Michael was cobbled together from two different ancient Latin texts. Roughly it means something like _'_You, Saint Michael the Archangel, leader of the armies of heaven, along with the thousands of angels, pray for me and deliver me from my powerful adversary'. The other invocations both Latin and English derive from the Roman Catholic rite of exorcism. The Latin from the rite of exorcism_ _means 'I exorcise thee, every unclean spirit, in the name of God. For a savor of sweetness. And to you, O devil, begone. For the judgment of God is at hand.' __The Saint Michael engraved Russian soldier's nametag is based on a real item. Anyone who wants to see what it looks like can ask me to send them a picture. It's very colorful. _


	37. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 32

**Author's notes:** This part follows directly after Part Thirty-One. Remember this is taking place in December of 1978.

**Warning: **This is definitely heading for a 'T' (PG13) version of sexual behavior.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Thirty-Two **

At first Kate Corrigan had found Abe Sapien's explanation about the eccentric way he and Hellboy had been communicating so fascinating that she didn't notice how long it was taking Hellboy to join them. After she had noticed and started worrying, she was more than relieved when Hellboy eventually arrived to where they were waiting for him at the foot of the stairs that lead back up to the surface.

Kate may not have been psychic herself, but was closely enough attuned to Hellboy's moods that she didn't need Abe's mind-reading abilities to note that Hellboy seemed upset. Abe, on the other hand, became keenly aware that Hellboy no longer wanted him inside his head any longer. The emergency, as far as Hellboy was concerned, was over and he wanted his thoughts and memories again off-limits. This didn't necessarily surprise Abe, but it still saddened him.

Hellboy tried to smile as he arrived, but it was obviously a struggle. Going up to Abe, he whispered something in an ear-hole imperceptible to Kate. Nodding, the fish-man turned from Hellboy and walked up the stairs. As Kate began to follow him, Hellboy touched her shoulder to stop her. He then sat down on the bottom of the cement staircase, indicating that he wished Kate to join him.

When she sat at his right side, he wrapped his huge stone hand around her waist. As he gently stroked her hair with his left hand, she leaned her head on his shoulder and wearily closed her eyes. Kate's hair was now fairly neat; pulled back in the clasp Hellboy had returned to her when he finally found where she and Mindy Carlton were imprisoned. It was very satisfying to him that those wooden chairs the rat had the two women bound to for hours on end were now burning away to ashes.

Burying her face in Hellboy's shoulder, Kate began to cry for the first time since she had been snatched from the Emerald Diner. This broke Hellboy's heart; he hated seeing 'his Katie' like this. Kissing the top of her head, he said, "Don't blame you for being upset, but it's all over now."

Kate raised her head again. Hellboy could now look into her tear-streaked face; her expression was hard to read. She shook her head, "I'm more than upset, Hellboy; I'm absolutely furious."

She took a deep breath to stop the tears that were more the result of rage rather than grief or fear, eventually saying in a voice laced with disdain and hatred, "How dare that creature jerk around with us like that? What makes it that goddamned furball's business what you do with your life or if Mindy and I choose to associate with you? Damn right, it's all over now; and it had better stay over."

Hellboy pulled Kate even closer to him, "It's really over, Katie. Furball shouldn't be back; at least not for a very long time. Kind of obliterated its 'physical manifestation' after you escaped."

"Good," Kate growled, "I hope that hurt like hell."

Smiling at Kate's unusually aggressive tone, Hellboy kissed her forehead.

Gently pulling away from him, Kate stood up and stretched. "Is there some reason why we're hanging around down here instead of returning to the surface?"

Still seated on the step, Hellboy stopped smiling and looked away. "We need to talk."

Sitting back down on the step, Kate gently turned Hellboy's head, coaxing him to look at her again. "Talk about what, Hellboy? Can't this wait until we get back to the Bureau?"

Hellboy pulled away from her, "I have something I need to say and you know they never give me any real privacy. Once we leave here, we will never be alone like this again. Abe won't be able to stall the other guys for too much longer, so we need to hurry it up."

Kate again stood up, "In a hurry or not, Hellboy, you're going to have to let me retreat to some corner and relieve myself first. I've not had a chance since I was in that diner and I drank a whole lot of soda and coffee before those rats showed up. I suppose some spell must have been cast while we were tied up, but now I've got to go with a vengeance."

Without waiting for a reply, Kate moved away to find a section of the tunnel where she could answer this 'call of nature' in as discrete a manner as possible. Before she got far from the stairs, she came to realize that Hellboy was following her.

Turning to face him, she laughed, "I think I can go potty all by myself, Hellboy. I'm a big girl now."

Hellboy gave her a little grin, "Still not too sure what crap might be down here, Katie, and I'm not about to let you wander off alone. You don't need to worry, I won't look."

Returning his smile, Kate then walked on until she found a suitable corner. Turning toward the wall, she proceeded to un-tuck her plaid shirt from her jeans. Hovering protectively near her, Hellboy turned his back; thus providing both a guard to her safety and a barrier for her to hide behind in case one of the BPRD agents should come looking for them.

While he was standing there, he mused on what he wanted to say to her and what would be the best way to put it. He hadn't even realized that Kate had finished when arms unexpectedly hugged him from behind and lips softly planted kisses on a very sensitive spot on the back of his neck.

"Oh God, Katie," Hellboy groaned, "I'll never be able to say what I gotta say if you don't stop that."

"Do you have to say anything?" she whispered, as she planted another kiss in the same spot.

Abruptly, he pulled away and turned toward her, "Yeah, like I said before, we need to talk."

Without waiting for a reply, Hellboy turned and started back toward the stairs. Mystified by his tone, Kate just followed him.

"Well, what is it you want to say to me that just can't wait?" Kate asked as she sat on the steps next to Hellboy, who had again seated himself there. She noted that he neither looked at her nor again wrapped his arm around her.

"UCLA," he said in a low voice, "I know you've been offered a really great job there; better than anything you have right now at NYU."

Kate stared at Hellboy for a second, "I'm not planning to take it, so I never told anyone except Trevor. How did you find out about it?"

Still not looking at her, he shrugged, "Let's just say I found out."

He took a deep breath and then forced himself to look at her, "Kate, I want you to take that job. Move to California and get the hell out of my life; it would be safer for you and easier for me."

Her face flushing in anger, Kate jumped up and started to ascend the stairs. Halfway up, she turned back toward him. He was still sitting on the bottom step, his head now dejectedly dropped down in his stone hand. Her initial anger dissipating, Kate went back down the stairs to sit next to him again.

He appeared oblivious to her return, but she knew he noticed. "Look, Hellboy," she said after sitting silent for a few moments, "I know you're not intentionally trying to make me angry, but I hate it when people tell me what to do. We've been best friends since I was eight years old. You can't just force me out of your life like this."

Lifting his head and looking over at her, he sighed, "At that Halloween party, I promised you I would never hurt you. What's the good of that, Katie, if I hurt you just because I exist?"

Kate, instead of answering Hellboy's question, leaned her head on his right shoulder. Still refusing to touch her, he sat for a long time before speaking again. "It's different with Pop," he said after what seemed like an hour of tense silence, "I know I'd never get him to leave me, even if he knew he'd die because he stayed. But maybe you still have a chance to get away before something else happens to you because of me."

Kate raised her head from Hellboy's shoulder. "I am not about to leave the only family I have left. Trevor has been my mentor, colleague, and almost father since I was nineteen. Yet as close as I am to him, that is nothing compared to what I feel for you."

Hellboy started to say something, but Kate went on, "Let me finish. You were almost the only person I could turn to when my father died; my mother was, and still is, useless in that way. Yet, for close to eleven years after that, I could only write letters to a 'Frank Redford, Jr.' of Brooklyn. There was nothing I really wanted more than to see you again. Signing up for a class with Trevor when I first came to NYU eight years ago changed everything. Now, I could no more leave you than he could."

"But, Katie," Hellboy finally managed to interject, "Something like this could happen again. You could get hurt or even die. Just go to California and forget all about me."

"To forget you would be to die," Kate whispered, as she pulled Hellboy into a fervent kiss that forced out all ability for rational thought. Almost without his own volition, his huge right hand gently drew Kate closer as his left hand eagerly began to explore her body; something he had only done in his dreams since they kissed at that Halloween party. As Kate enthusiastically returned Hellboy's caresses in ways that were totally new to him, the kiss became even more passionate.

Watching television and movies had given Hellboy a good idea of the kinds of things that went on between men and women. When he had been younger, other senior agents he was close to had alleviated some of his curiosity on certain topics he was hesitant to ask Trevor Broom about. None of this had prepared him for the intensity of what he was now experiencing in every part of his being.

Startled by these almost overwhelming sensations, Hellboy pulled back breathlessly from that kiss. He gazed down into blue eyes that were now dark with desire. Finding it hard not to laugh at his stunned expression, Kate calmly readjusted the silver clasp and straightened her now mussed hair.

"Still want me to go to California?" she said, standing up from the step they had still been sitting on.

"Goddammit!" Hellboy said, as he got up to stand next to her, "That's nothing but blackmail, Kate."

"Nah, just a promise of many things to come," she said, starting up the stairs, "Let's get the hell out of here so I can show you."

Hellboy moved up the stairs after her. "Katie, wait; are you sure you really want this?"

Smiling, she put her right hand in his left, "Never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

Hand in hand, they ascended the staircase. Despite Kate's prediction at the Halloween party of the impermanence of any romance between them, they both felt this new stage in their relationship could only make their long-time friendship even more vital and deep; regardless of how things turned out the friendship would always remain.

They exited the enclosure to the relief of Abe and the other agents, who were becoming impatient.

It was now well after seven a.m. One of the agents handed a grateful Hellboy the black cloak he had been using earlier. As they walked along Saint Nicholas Avenue, Hellboy stopped to admire an old red truck with a 'for sale' sign parked near the Harlem School of the Arts. "Jeez, Kate, I could make a really great bed out of that if I could ever get my hands on it."

As they walked together toward the garbage truck, Abe memorized the information from that sign on the red truck. Trevor Broom had explained to him the meaning of Christmas and he had been wondering what to get Hellboy as a gift. He hoped Broom might help him purchase that truck.

_More to come..._

**Author's afterword: **I've decided to move Hellboy's coming birthday and Christmas into a separate part. I'm hoping to get this written and posted by sometime on Christmas day. 1978 is certainly turning out to be an interesting year for Hellboy.


	38. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 33

**Author's notes:** This part follows directly after Part Thirty-Two, but makes connections back to events of earlier parts. Malachy (pronounced Ma-la-kee) is an original character of mine. The name just popped into my head and is not connected to anything outside of the fact that I thought it sounded vaguely Biblical. Kate Corrigan is from Mike Mignola's original Hellboy comics, but I'm solely to blame for how she is used here.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Thirty-Three**

While Hellboy and Abe had been below the surface of Saint Nicholas Park, the morning had become brighter and brighter, even though the sun had yet to rise. When the FBI had become aware of the success of their incursion into that underground chamber, they decided to cordon off that block of Saint Nicholas Avenue where the garbage truck and other Bureau vehicles were still parked in front of the 'fish-fry' restaurant near 145th Street. Initially considering moving the vehicles along Saint Nicholas closer to the location of the park, they decided to have the group walk back to the truck.

Right after Abe had walked past the red truck so admired by Hellboy, a Bureau agent came up to him with the same disguise he had worn when he met Walter Carlton. Stoically Abe again buried himself under the false beard, dark glasses, hat, and overcoat; grateful that the weather was now colder than it had been the evening before when the disguise had seemed so suffocating.

As Hellboy, Kate, Abe, and the other BPRD agents walked along the cordoned-off block, this was the first time Kate truly became aware that she had been held in a chamber below the streets of Harlem. Like Trevor Broom, she had occasion as a lecturer to visit the campus of the CUNY Graduate Center, whose spires she now realized overlooked the location of her imprisonment. The familiarity of the neighborhood just lent another layer of unreality to her memories of her strange captor.

Just before they crossed from the west side of Saint Nicholas to the east where the truck was parked, Hellboy, who still held Kate's hand in his own, noted that her hand was trembling. Looking down at her in concern, he could see that her face had become very pale.

"Katie, do you feel okay?" he asked, beginning to worry even more when she stumbled as she walked.

"No, not really," Kate stopped walking and looked up at the now cloaked Hellboy. She couldn't see his face because of his hood, but could sense his concern, "Oh, don't sound so worried. I don't think there's anything really wrong with me. I'm just tired."

As she was speaking, the group crossed over Saint Nicholas to the location of Hellboy's garbage truck. Kate realized immediately that this vehicle was not the same beat-up truck Hellboy usually used. Earlier, when Hellboy and Abe had gone out to look for the prophesied 'white cat', Trevor Broom had cleaned up after Abe's weird illness; returning the truck to its original pristine newness.

"Blue, Katie's not feeling so great," Hellboy said to Abe, who had arrived with the other agents just a little ahead of them, "Could you give her a quick check just to make sure it's nothing to worry about?"

It intrigued Kate that the slender fish-man, now buried under that weird disguise, was able to give her a physical examination without ever touching her. He merely removed a leather glove and slowly passed his right hand, webbed fingers hyper-extended, in the air over her head and chest.

After a few moments, he shook his head, "I don't sense anything major, Red. She seems to be merely exhausted from her ordeal. I earlier had a chance to examine Mindy Carlton and remarked the same fatigue in her. Right now, the best thing Professor Corrigan can do is sleep. However, a visit within the next few days to the Bureau Medical Wing would be a wise precaution."

Kate nodded, "Those rats may have been supernatural creatures, but they used a good, old-fashioned knockout drug when they grabbed us. Side effects of that may have to do with our current malaise. What's the most interesting thing, though, is what happened with the nausea and headaches that plagued us when we first woke up. Just about the time I was going to throw up violently, it all faded as if it had never occurred. I found out later that the same thing had happened to Mindy."

An agent in the cab of the garbage truck lowered the rear doors so they could enter the truck.

Hellboy, to Kate's amusement, insisted on taking her into his arms and carrying her up into the gleaming vehicle as if she were a bride being carried over the threshold. No one was in the truck, as Trevor Broom, and the two agents who had gone with him, had yet to return from transporting Mindy Carlton back to her apartment in Greenwich Village.

Hellboy placed Kate down on the bench Trevor Broom had been sleeping on earlier; it was still made up into a bed. Removing his cloak, he tossed it onto his seat, which was just in front of the bench.

"God, Hellboy, where'd you manage to get this fancy set of wheels?" Kate laughed, as she sleepily gazed around the elaborately equipped laboratory that was housed in the truck.

"It was supposed to be a birthday present from Lee," Hellboy replied, as he adjusted the pillows and covered Kate with the blanket, "But he gave it to me early so's I could…" Hellboy trailed off as he realized that Kate had already fallen fast asleep.

Not wanting to go any farther from her than he had to, Hellboy sat on the floor next to the bench. Tenderly taking a hold of her right hand, he watched her sleep. After some time had gone by, Abe climbed in. Hellboy wondered where he had gotten to, but then realized that Abe had made himself scarce in order to give him some privacy with Kate.

After removing his uncomfortable disguise, Abe sat on the floor next to Hellboy. "The Professor just phoned to inform the agents here that he successfully returned Mindy Carlton to her father, who was still waiting for her in her apartment," Abe informed him in a low voice. "Having been made aware of the successful outcome of our operation, the Professor decided that rather than returning here, he will meet us back at the Bureau in Newark."

As Abe spoke, Kate muttered something in her sleep but did not awaken. Raising the hand he was holding to his lips, Hellboy refrained from kissing it; not wanting to disturb Kate. Carefully letting go, he stood up from the floor and went to his seat. Abe followed suit and returned to his own seat. Hellboy spoke quietly into his walkie-talkie, urging the driver of the truck to maneuver the large vehicle as carefully as possible not to jostle Kate.

It was not until the truck and other vehicles were under way that Hellboy arose from his seat and walked over to kneel next to where Abe was sitting. "Blue, I'll take back every nasty thing I ever said about 'this damn psychic hocus-pocus of yours'. If it weren't for you we never would've…"

Abe placed a webbed hand on Hellboy's shoulder, "We both contributed something, Red. Isn't that what partners are supposed to do? Yet, I am concerned that what you referred to last night as my 'so-called gift' is still more 'so-called' than anything else. I now realize that I actually had established a psychic link at that point in time with Professor Corrigan and Mindy Carlton; but it was uncontrolled and poorly focused. This is probably the best explanation for my sudden illness. I was experiencing the drug-induced headaches and nausea they should have been suffering. It is obvious to me that I need a lot more practice if I am truly to be useful to you as a partner."

"Abe," a sleepy voice cut in from the bench, "Stop calling me Professor Corrigan. I'm usually 'Kate' to guys who help save me from giant rats."

Chuckling at this interruption, Hellboy turned to look at Kate, but she had already rolled over and fallen back to sleep again. He turned back to Abe. "Maybe you do need more practice, Blue, but I still never would've found Kate if it weren't for you."

"I would think that my associates and I deserve some thanks, too," Hellboy looked up to find Malachy seated at the table at the front of the truck that was still strewn with maps of Saint Nicholas Park.

Hellboy walked up to him, finding his appearance even more ethereal and indefinable than before, "Well, I suppose you do; at least you got rid of furball's guards for us. But, you know, I kind of expected a little more help in that chamber."

Malachy, now more solid, pushed back his long white hair, "What makes you think we didn't help? When you called on us, we came to you. We also helped boost your psychic connection to Abe."

Hellboy shook his head, "I never called on you. I just…" Malachy's appearance suddenly became so brilliant that Hellboy and Abe were almost blinded. Falling to his knees, Hellboy threw up his left hand to shade his eyes. "Aw, shit, you're Saint Michael, aren't you?"

"A mere avatar only," replied Malachy, as the effulgence of light faded, "Even you could not withstand his full manifestation. Just a small glimpse of his true being would fill most people with abject fear. This is why my associates and I seldom function on this plane of existence. But this case was unique, as I stated before. The enemy had flouted divine decrees against direct supernatural interference in human affairs; it had to be dealt with. Yet, the choices made in that chamber had to be your choices, the defiance your defiance. We came to your assistance when you chose to call on us."

Still on his knees, Hellboy looked over at the sleeping Kate, "Glad you did; I really needed the help."

Malachy smiled, "We are always there to help you, Hellboy, even if usually in a less direct manner. Remember, Michael is the patron saint of all those who protect frail humanity from that which harms."

Becoming curious over Abe's uncharacteristic silence, Hellboy turned toward him and found that he was slumped down in his seat, fast asleep. Realizing that he was now essentially alone with Malachy, he turned back to him, "That idiotic demonic rat kept going on and on about my destiny. If I don't really know who or what I am now, how can I know what my destiny should be? Do you know?"

Malachy looked deep into Hellboy's golden eyes. "Who you are now is easy to see: you are a peculiar combination of your unique origins, how you were raised by the man who adopted you, and your own freely-chosen actions. You do, indeed, have a destiny, but what that destiny should be can only be determined by you yourself."

Sighing, Hellboy stood up and collapsed down into his seat, bowing his head. "But what if I'm nothing more than a demon from Hell, with only one destiny and no choice about it?"

"All sentient beings have a choice, Hellboy," replied Malachy, coming to stand next to Hellboy's seat. "You are no different. When I look into your heart, I see many things: envy, anger, fear, jealousy; but, over and above all of these, I see love. There is no love in Hell. Love only comes from Heaven and is something that must be freely given and freely accepted by those who choose to do so."

Yanking open the panel that allowed him to look outside, Hellboy stared, unseeing, for a long while at the highway scenery going by. "Malachy, I don't really need much to make me happy," he finally said, "A good movie, a nice cold bottle of beer, a bowl of my favorite chili, a Baby Ruth bar, kissing Katie, knowing people I care about are safe. But what I really want most is for Father to be proud of me. What if that furball was right and I do something that really messes things up?"

Malachy knelt by Hellboy, placing a hand on his knee, "Remember, your biggest weakness is jealousy. Try to keep only love in your heart; for if you ever allow jealousy to grow, things may not be so well."

A loud mewing unexpectedly occurred at that moment. In Hellboy's excitement over rescuing Kate and subsequent conversation with Malachy, he totally forgot the white kitten he had named 'Lucky'; his new pet that was then ensconced in one of the overhead animal cages in the front of the truck.

Hellboy had originally placed his cloak in the cage for Lucky to lie on, but an agent had removed it when it was given to Hellboy to wear after the successful termination of the operation. The kitten was now sitting disconsolately on the bare metal bottom of the cage next to the pan of litter.

Getting up from his chair, Hellboy opened the cage and lifted Lucky down from it. The minute Lucky was again held in Hellboy's warm hands, he stopped crying and started purring. Holding the cat in the stone palm of his huge right hand, Hellboy retrieved the cloak and relined the cage with it.

He then dug around in the bag on the table that still contained the food purchased the night before. There was no more cat food in the bag, but there was another package of Hellboy's favorite brand of mozzarella string cheese; something guaranteed to be an extremely rare treat for a stray cat.

Malachy had sat back down at the table, watching with amusement Hellboy's almost maternal care of his new pet. "Is this kitten one of the associates you keep talking about, Malachy?" Hellboy inquired, as he sat down in his chair with Lucky in his lap and broke off pieces of the stringy, but delicious cheese to feed to the now ecstatic white kitten.

Malachy shook his head. "Often when we need to check things out we manifest as cats and mingle with the strays in a particular location. We first encountered this kitten with an eye for shiny objects in early November when we were tracking odd behavior among the city's rat population. Last night we merely encouraged him to give you the hair clasp he had found in the park earlier that evening."

"Was it you who put the idea in Abe's head that we had to go looking for a white cat?" Hellboy asked, as he hungrily ate a little of the string cheese himself.

"No, that 'prediction' was totally due to his own formidable psychic powers. It saved us from having to find a way to coax you out of the truck to find the hair clasp. We were not initially planning on intervening any further than to make sure the kitten left the clasp where you could find it; at least not until your companion inadvertently astral-projected into the chamber where the women were imprisoned and alerted the rat that you were closer than he assumed."

"And that's when you snuck yourself into my truck in your kitty-cat form." Hellboy grinned, as he continued feeding Lucky, taking occasional nibbles of the cheese himself. It was not long before the entire package of mozzarella was consumed.

Noticing that Abe and Kate were still fast asleep, Hellboy got up from his seat when the kitten was finished eating. After retrieving the same plastic bowl and jug of water used the night before, he gave Lucky some water to drink before he again placed the kitten back into the metal cage. After climbing into the pan of litter to perform necessary postprandial functions and scratching to bury the results, Lucky curled up in the cloak that was again at the bottom of the cage and went to sleep.

Poking his left forefinger through the front of the cage, Hellboy gently stroked the drowsing kitten, which purred happily at this attention. He then went back to his seat on the truck, falling asleep right after he sat down.

As he drifted into dreams, he heard a not-unfamiliar voice speak, "Farewell; take good care of our little kleptomaniac, won't you? Beware of leaving shiny objects around. He does seem to like them."

Hellboy, Abe, and Kate continued sleeping until the truck pulled into the main aboveground garage at the Newark Bureau headquarters.

_More to come… _

**Author's afterword:** Sorry this ended up posted later than I originally wanted to. I sing a lot of concerts this time of year and just didn't have time to post anything on Christmas. Originally, I was going to make this longer and have it be the last part of Chapter Five, but decided to post these completed pages before New Year's since the system is coming down on 12/30 (at least for posting and editing). Since I have another concert to prepare for New Year's Eve, it will probably be after the first of the year before I finish up Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry.

Of all of the Hellboy fanfictions I've written, this chapter of Hellboy's Family will be the one I will miss the most when it is finished. It was fun writing it, I hope it was fun reading it. Thanks to all who have done so and I hope you all have a prosperous and happy New Year.


	39. 5 Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part 34

**Author's notes:** This part follows directly after Part Thirty-Three, but first makes connections back to Part Thirty.

**Reminder**: 'Lee', an original character of mine, is a politician who had served during the Second World War under the code name of 'L.' or 'Lee'. He will be FBI liaison until the advent of Tom Manning in 1984. I have not yet identified him in my Hellboy fics by other than his code name. A member of the House of Representatives in 1949, in 1978 he is a retired Senator. Nurse Martha Wilson and Doctor Robert Patterson from the BPRD facility in Boston first appeared in my Hellboy fic A Tale of 'Demon' Rights. In my slightly alternate universe, combining movieverse and comicverse elements, Boston had been BPRD headquarters in the 1950s.

**Chapter Five: Abe Sapien: Sibling Rivalry: Part Thirty-Four **

Following Trevor Broom's departure, Walter Carlton could hear Mindy weeping in her bedroom alcove, the walls in her apartment being very thin. He wished more than anything that he could comfort her, but understood she wished to be left alone. After what seemed a long time, Mindy became silent. Quietly opening her bedroom door to check on her, Carlton found that she had finally fallen asleep.

The telephone on her nightstand had a very long cord, so he decided to take it back into the living room with him; if it rang, he could answer it without disturbing her. Just about twenty minutes later, he managed to snatch up the telephone receiver on its first ring.

"Melinda Carlton's apartment," he announced.

_"Trevor Broom here. I just wanted to let you know as soon as possible that everything is fine and I'm heading back home to Newark. My son and his friends will be joining me there. I hope your daughter is starting to feel better." _

"I'm afraid she's not doing very well, but this welcome news may help. I'd like to be able to meet your son again, to thank him in person; and I'm sure Mindy feels the same. Would that be possible?"

_"Yes, of course, Mr. Carlton; the sooner, the better, in fact. Some kind of closure will help you both deal with these recent events. Will four o'clock tomorrow afternoon be acceptable? If so, I will send a car to pick you up at that time. You could have supper with us while we discuss options." _

Carlton wondered what these 'options' would entail. Mindy and he, if unintentionally, had learned of the existence of a top-secret government bureau along with its supposedly non-existent and officially unacknowledged non-human agents.

He gladly accepted the invitation; dinner with Trevor Broom, Hellboy, and Abe was certain to be a more interesting and pleasant way to be debriefed than many other methods the FBI could offer.

* * *

Lee, the FBI liaison, had originally intended only a brief visit to the Newark BPRD headquarters before returning to his offices in Washington. After discovering Kate Corrigan had been one of the women seized by the rats, he anxiously prolonged his visit to Newark. He had known both Kate and Hellboy from their youths and, never having had children of his own, felt just as panicked about them when they were in danger as Trevor Broom did or Walter Carlton felt about Mindy.

Kate and her mother, Cybil, had never met Lee in his capacity of FBI liaison while Richard Corrigan worked as a consultant for the Bureau. After the death of Richard in 1959, Trevor Broom had tried to keep in touch with the wife and child of his former colleague and friend. Yet, Cybil Corrigan wanted to forget all about her late husband's connection to the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense; especially the existence of its director, Trevor Broom, and Broom's weird adopted son.

Lee had introduced himself to Cybil and Kate after Richard Corrigan's death as 'John Peterson', purportedly a colleague from the university where Richard had taught folklore. This 'John' kept in touch with them as much as possible.

In this manner, Lee monitored Kate and her mother over the years and kept Trevor Broom and Hellboy informed of their welfare. Even though his visits were sporadic at best, 'Uncle John' had been the closest thing Kate had to a father between age eight and when she left home at age nineteen.

When Kate had turned sixteen, 'John' made her aware of his other identities and his connection to Trevor Broom's Bureau. It became a comfort to her to have at least one person who knew of the existence of Hellboy and understood how much her penpal-only friend 'Frank' meant to her.

Memories of his earlier relationship with Kate Corrigan and Hellboy filled Lee with a restless energy, making his own small office in the Newark facility feel too claustrophobic. He left word with the main security desk that he would await any news in Trevor Broom's larger office.

Every so often, he would go into a nearby staff kitchen to make a pot of coffee. He would then go back to Broom's office and sit pensively staring into the fire while drinking the coffee. Managing to doze off a couple of times, he was still too nervous to want to go into the private guest quarters reserved for him and try to get some real sleep.

Not long after 4:00am, some of the agents who had been with Trevor Broom in Harlem returned to the Bureau for food and rest as others were sent in their place. One of these agents awoke Lee from a light doze and informed him of what was then going on and how close they were to their goal.

Even without any particular psychic ability, Lee's many decades of acquaintance with Trevor Broom had developed in him a certain empathic resonance with the emotional states of people he cared for. Just about 7:00am, the tense knot of apprehension that had been sitting like a rock on his chest lessened considerably and he finally fell into a deep sleep. It was not quite an hour later when he was awakened by the ringing of the telephone on Broom's desk.

Almost knocking it over in his haste to answer it, he found that it was the guard stationed at the desk at the main upper-level entrance. The longed-for good tidings driving away any residual weariness, Lee exited the office—feeling much happier than when he had entered it almost eleven hours earlier.

First going to his guest quarters to freshen up a little and straighten out his rumpled suit, Lee then made his way up to the main facility garage. The black sedan that contained Trevor Broom and the two agents who had gone with him pulled in first, since the location of Mindy Carlton's apartment in Greenwich Village was closer to Newark than Harlem.

Noticing when he stepped forward to greet Broom how exhausted his friend and colleague appeared, Lee suggested that Broom immediately retire to get some sleep. Objecting to this at first, as he had never seen Kate since Hellboy and Abe rescued her, Broom finally gave in. He was only three years older than Lee, but at that point those three years felt more like three centuries. After filling Lee in on what he knew of Hellboy and Kate's condition and praising Abe's assistance, Broom withdrew to sleep.

* * *

Hellboy, Abe, and Kate started to come awake as the truck pulled into the main Bureau facility garage. In many ways, it had been a healing rest for all concerned, especially for Kate Corrigan.

Having only dreamlike impressions of his most recent encounter with Malachy, Hellboy still understood that this odd being had something to do with the more than naturally therapeutic nature of this rest. Even Lucky, the stray white cat Hellboy had adopted, was found later to have had all evidence of fleas and other ailments ameliorated.

Since Hellboy's truck and the other sedans would probably be pulling into the same garage where Lee was already located, he decided to wait for them. They were only around fifteen to twenty minutes behind Trevor Broom, but to Lee it seemed more like fifteen hours. Even though Broom had earlier informed him that, as far as he knew, Kate was little the worse for her horrifying experience, Lee was desperate to see for himself that she was safe.

When the still new-looking sanitation truck pulled in at last, Lee hurried over to the location where the driver had pulled over for the three passengers in the rear to disembark. Climbing into the back of the truck the minute the rear doors opened, he saw Kate sitting upon the blanket-strewn bench; sleepy and disheveled-looking, but essentially unharmed. Unable to hold back his tears, Lee threw himself onto the bench next to her and clutched her in a fierce embrace.

Feeling awkward, since he had only met Lee a few times until the briefing for this mission, Abe moved toward the front of the truck and started to collect up all the maps and diagrams he had used earlier. Hellboy was never one who dealt easily with distraught people or strong emotions; he beat a hasty retreat and went to join Abe, leaving Lee alone with Kate.

Having seen too much in his long career, Lee was not generally prone to tears. Hellboy hadn't seen him this distressed since his wife, a woman Hellboy only ever knew as 'Aunt Polly', died of ovarian cancer during Hellboy's second mission into Argentina in 1955. Pulling out a handkerchief after he let go of Kate, Lee blew his nose noisily and made a great effort to regain control.

It had been extremely difficult for Kate to witness Lee becoming this upset. Hugging him even closer, she tearfully whispered something in his ear of which Hellboy could only make out a few words.

"You do seem to have a lot of different names, don't you, Lee?" Hellboy said, walking back over to the bench and laying his left hand on Lee's shoulder, "I forgot all about 'Uncle John'."

"God, that was a long time ago, wasn't it?" Lee mumbled, gently disengaging from Kate's embrace.

Stuffing the handkerchief back into a jacket pocket, Lee smiled up at Hellboy. "I never doubted that you could pull this off, Hellboy, but I'm sure as hell glad it's over. I hope the truck came in handy."

"Sure did, Uncle Lee," Hellboy grinned, "But not as handy as Abe over there. I don't think I could've 'pulled this off', as you put it, without him."

Abe, who had just finished rearranging the papers on the table, walked over. "Like I said before, Red, we both contributed. It was a good test of our new partnership and I'm glad my inexperience did not jeopardize our efforts too much. I certainly need a lot more practice. Though, one could hope that the next code-red not hit so close to home."

Smiling, Lee stood up and took Abe's webbed right hand in both his own. "Just about a half hour ago, I spoke with Trevor when he returned. He had nothing but praise for your actions, Abe. I wish there was something more I could do than just say 'thank you'. If there's anything you ever need, just ask, and I will make every effort to obtain it. Welcome to our odd little family."

Abe smiled back. "I do not recall much of my previous life, but I have seen enough since my arrival here to know that a 'family', no matter how 'odd' or 'little', is a good thing to have. I look forward to learning how I can better become a part of it. Right now, that is all I need."

"Right now," said Kate, standing and stretching, "All I need is to get out of this truck and find a hot shower and a warm bed. Thank God, I always keep some clothes and toiletries here."

Hellboy helped Kate down out of the truck, Lee noticing an extra solicitousness on Hellboy's part. Curious about the current state of their relationship, Lee recalled hearing some rumors about Hellboy and Kate's more than friendly behavior at the Halloween party in October. Thinking it better to keep his observations to himself for the time being, he followed Abe out of the truck.

* * *

The minute Abe descended into the main Bureau facility, he raided a refrigerator in the Medical Wing where there was always a cache of rotten eggs placed there by a nurse who owned what Hellboy always called 'a lizardy thing'. Having satiated his hunger for the time being, Abe retreated to his own quarters to take a very long cool shower before going to sleep in the private portion of his aquarium.

Kate intrigued Lee by giving Hellboy a passionate kiss after he helped her out of the truck. First taken by security to a storage area to retrieve her belongings, she disappeared into the tiny belowground guest quarters assigned to her. After showering, feeling clean for the first time in over twelve hours, she ate a snack sent to her from the main kitchen and then fell asleep on the warmly snug cot.

Though completely exhausted, Hellboy was too hungry to sleep. First checking that Trevor Broom had indeed arrived back, he went to the main kitchen to get them to make his usual breakfast.

Hellboy later found himself alone in his room; surrounded by bowls of food, a pot of coffee, and many televisions blaring programs and commercials. Movement caught his eye from a set near the table where he was wolfing down syrupy pancakes, buttered toast, and crispy bacon; a flailing-armed, turtle-necked guy in a sports jacket was shouting, "**Crazy Eddie! His prices are in-sa-a-ne!**"

He usually got a kick out of these commercials for the local electronics chain, but was still nursing a slight headache. He recalled the last thing he had watched on that particular television had been a Charlie Chaplin movie broadcast late Sunday evening. As it was still tuned into WOR-TV, Hellboy got up to change the channel; not wanting to be inundated with the usually banal local programming Channel 9 broadcast in the morning interspersed with any more of the strident commercials.

Randomly flipping the dial, Hellboy tuned into Channel 2 still in the midst of the CBS Morning News. Usually able to tune out droning newscasts, Hellboy's ears pricked up. When he understood what was being broadcast, he jumped up from the table, shoved a blank tape in his VHS machine, and pressed the record button. He sat down again, picking up his fork and continued eating his pancakes.

_"… Melinda Carlton, the young waitress allegedly seized last evening by giant rats from a Greenwich Village diner, is now known to be at home in her apartment. Any attempts by members of our news team to contact her have been thwarted by the FBI; who is now claiming that 'Mindy', as she is known by her friends and family, was nothing more than a victim of unknown practical jokers in costumes." _

_"Many have claimed, both in the Greenwich Village region near New York University and in Harlem near Saint Nicholas Park, to have seen weird occurrences and strange beings all evening long and into today's morning hours. In both locations, the FBI and additional agents blocked journalists and other witnesses from a closer view. As a result, there are no visuals that entirely prove these claims." _

_"The whereabouts of Professor Kate Corrigan, a lecturer on folklore at New York University, are still unknown at the time of this broadcast. Some have maintained that the rats seized her from the diner at the same time as the waitress, but the FBI categorically denies this. At present, Professor Corrigan is officially on sabbatical from the university. The head of the Anthropology Department claims that she has yet to return from a recent research trip to Hungary and refuses to make further comment."_

The visuals on the screen then switched from the talking head of the news commentator to grainy pictures of Hellboy's new garbage truck, several shots of himself obscured by his cloak, and one shot of Abe in his false beard, dark hat, and overcoat. One of these photographs had been partially blocked by agents on the scene. All that could be made out was a large gloved man completely covered by a black hooded cloak, walking hand-in-hand with a woman whose face could not be seen.

While these various shots were being shown, the news commentary continued.

_"According to reports, Professor Corrigan is well acquainted with a renowned professor of folklore at New York University, the English-born Trevor Broom. Yet, for several decades, rumors have connected this distinguished British scholar to a mysterious government agency reputedly formed in the 1940s to fight against supernatural threats. The FBI vehemently disavows the existence of this so-called 'Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense'. It has been noted that sanitation trucks often appear in locations where citizens claim activity by this alleged bureau." _

The visuals switched to some foreign country. _"On the international scene, in other breaking news…"_ Hellboy pressed the stop button on his VHS.

He again reached for that set and switched to another channel, no longer paying any attention to what was on the screen. He ate a few more mouthfuls of food; but found that major exhaustion was finally kicking in. He pulled off his boots and lying on his rumpled bed, fell into a deep slumber.

After hours of uninterrupted sleep filled with pleasant dreams of Kate Corrigan, he awoke; for once, his heart was pounding from something other than gut-wrenching dread. Gone were his recent nightmares about his right hand, never to return again until almost twenty-six years later.

Taking a brief shower, he then dressed himself in a fresh pair of black leather pants and tee shirt; eventually making his way to the Medical Wing where his new pet cat Lucky was quarantined until it was determined to be free of diseases, fleas, and other parasites.

He located the little white cat in a small cage in one of the research facilities, still none too happy at having been poked, prodded and given shots around ten minutes before by a consultant veterinarian. Hellboy's cloak and a plastic pan of fresh litter were in the cage with the cat.

Hellboy smiled at Dr. Cobb, who was cleaning the area that the now departed veterinarian had used to examine the cat. "So, how's my little pussy doing?" he asked, poking the forefinger of his left hand into the cat's cage and attempting to stroke the still disgruntled cat, who angrily swatted at the finger.

Dr. Cobb, who always got along with Hellboy well enough, smiled back. "Healthier than we expected. You'd never think this cat had been a stray. I think he will be released to you sometime tomorrow. While you're at it, remind Professor Corrigan to come and see us. We didn't want to bother her today, but it would be a good idea for her to have a physical examination before she departs."

Nodding his acknowledgement of the request, Hellboy walked out of the research facility and departed the Medical Wing. Rather than returning to his own room, Hellboy decided to go to his father's office. He needed to think about his quickly developing relationship with Kate Corrigan and he always found the office a great place for those rare times when he needed some peace and quiet. As much as he loved his collection of televisions, his own room was sometimes a bit too chaotic for introspection.

And Hellboy felt sure that some thinking needed to be done. While they had been searching for Kate, all he could think about was rescuing her; and when she was rescued and everything was finally over, he discovered he could barely put two rational thoughts together when she was anywhere near him.

Regardless of his inexperience in matters of the heart, Hellboy was aware of what Kate wanted of him. He was also more than aware that he desired to do what she wanted. His attempt to get her to move to California and forget all about him had been half-hearted at best; one kiss from Kate had too easily dissuaded him from convincing her that this would be in her best interest.

Apart from the affection and attraction he felt for Kate, Hellboy really wanted nothing more than to do what was right by her. He was yet to be completely convinced that a sexual relationship with him was the best thing for her; then again, it was hard to turn her down when she made it so clear that this was exactly what she wanted from him.

When he reached his father's office, unusual for that time of day, it was empty.

Too restless to sit down, he threw some logs on the fire and just stood staring at it. After a long time, the door to the office opened and Lee walked in. He was accompanied by Martha Wilson, head nurse of the Boston BPRD Medical Wing before her retirement, and Doctor Robert Patterson, still the chief surgeon in Boston.

Hellboy turned toward them; both surprised and pleased to see his old friends. In many ways Martha had been almost like a mother to him when Boston had been Bureau headquarters in the 1950s and, in spite of a rough beginning to their relationship, he was just as close to Bob Patterson.

Giving Martha a quick squeeze and shaking Bob's hand, Hellboy couldn't help smiling in spite of his earlier pensive mood. Bob leaned toward Hellboy and whispered something. Hellboy stared at him and then at a slightly blushing Martha Wilson. "And I want you to be my best man," Bob added.

"Jesus, Bob, when'd all this start?" Hellboy finally managed to get out.

Bob put an arm around Martha's shoulder, grinning at the look on Hellboy's face.

"We first met during the war," he replied, "However, we decided to keep it essentially platonic then. After all, I was her commanding officer; and even though we left the military in 1951 when we went to work for the Bureau in Boston, we thought it best to keep it quiet until at least one of us retired."

Hellboy gave Martha another huge hug—this time noticing the delicately designed diamond engagement ring on her left hand. "So, when's the big event? Does Pop know about it yet?"

"This Saturday; if you don't mind sharing your birthday with us, H.B.," replied Martha, as she managed to escape his bone-crushing hug. "We decided to do it quietly here, instead of in Boston; most of the Bureau personnel we want to attend are in Newark anyway. As for your other question: no, your father doesn't know about it yet. He needs to know, especially since he's giving me away. And I thought Katie maybe wouldn't mind being my maid of honor."

"No, Marty, I wouldn't mind," interrupted Kate, who had just walked in while Martha was speaking, "And even though Hellboy sends you more flowers in any given year than the most romantic of lovers, I doubt he's the one you're marrying. So who's the lucky guy?"

Laughing, Bob Patterson raised his hand. "Guilty, as charged."

Kate looked closer at him; she didn't know him as well as Hellboy did and wondered if Hellboy had ever suspected a relationship of this type between these long-time acquaintances.

Hellboy noticed that Kate looked a lot more rested. She was wearing a clean pair of jeans and a red custom-made tee shirt Hellboy had given her the previous Christmas. There was a quotation inscribed on the front: _"And with all that, who is there who believes in vampires?" Jean-Jacques Rousseau_. Which question was answered on the back of the shirt: _"I do." Kate Corrigan, Scholar of the Undead._

Martha ran to give Kate a hug. She and Bob had known Kate ever since 1959 when her father, Richard Corrigan, had been admitted to the Boston BPRD Medical Wing in hopes that a still experimental surgical technique would stabilize his cardiac condition. Like Trevor Broom and Hellboy, they retained a keen interest in the welfare of Richard's bereaved daughter after his death and tried to keep in touch as much as possible.

Bob turned toward Hellboy. "The Bureau facility in Boston had been put on alert last night that additional agents might be needed to get an 'incident' under control in Manhattan. Martha and I had no idea that Kate was involved until Lee told us when we arrived here today. I'm almost glad we didn't know the details. Martha probably would have died from worry."

After kissing Martha's cheek, Kate pulled away from the hug and stared at the recently installed aquarium in Trevor Broom's office. "What's with this huge empty tank, Hellboy? Is Trevor planning on collecting tropical fish? And what's with the bookstands facing it?"

Hellboy laughed, "Nah, no fish; just one fish-man who likes to read and who's probably still sleeping in the part you can't see from here."

"A fish-man?" Martha peered into the depths of Abe's tank. "Is this the same fish-man you and Trevor spoke so highly of when you were recuperating in Boston back in November?"

"Recuperating?" Kate looked at Martha and Bob, and then back at Hellboy, "Recuperating from what?"

"Um, long story; very long story," Hellboy replied, fidgeting his tail back and forth; a sure sign that this 'long story' bothered him, "It all happened when you were still in some godforsaken Hungarian backwater searching for vampires and Pop didn't want to worry you if he didn't have to. Let's just say that I'll never ignore anything Abe ever has to say to me ever again."

Hellboy turned away from Kate and tossed a few more logs on the fire. When he turned back to her, he grinned slightly, "I'm glad as hell things worked out better today."

A slight splash of water heralded the appearance of Abe Sapien in the 'public' part of his aquarium.

Martha and Bob moved closer to the glass wall and admired the slender figure in tight fitting black shorts lazily drifting back and forth in the tank, the interior lights causing his gray-blue skin to glisten. Kate also moved closer. She had met Abe earlier that day; but now reveled in the chance to see him in his more natural element, finding the fish-man extremely attractive.

"Greetings, Nurse Wilson and Doctor Patterson," Abe's voice sounded hollow and tinny-sounding due to the recently installed speaker system that allowed him to be heard underwater, "I am glad of the opportunity to finally be introduced."

Even though Abe had never met any personnel from Boston, Trevor Broom had told him about the most important BPRD personnel stationed in other locations. He recognized Bob and Martha from official portraits he had been shown of these personnel.

Waving at them as he glided into a graceful summersault, he then swam to the top of the tank, eventually exiting it and climbing down the spiral staircase in the rear of the office. He had dried off and was now wearing a longer pair of black pants and a black shirt, made of the same skin-fittingly tight material that his swimming trunks had been.

Hellboy and Lee introduced Abe. They then launched into a detailed explanation to Martha and Bob of everything that had happened over the past two days. Noticing that Hellboy seemed reluctant to go into too much detail over his final struggle with the demonic rat, Martha wondered if there was more to this incident than his usual monster bashing. Even though he seemed happy enough, at the same time she sensed an underlying uncertainty or hesitation over something.

Martha managed to pull Hellboy aside at a point when Bob, Lee and Kate were deep in conversation with Abe. "Okay; what's up? I can tell you're about ready to explode with something."

Grinning, Hellboy leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I know you can, Marty. You always could."

"C'mon, H.B.," Martha said, just a little louder, "Why don't you take a minute and show me this chapel I'm supposed to be getting married in. After that I wouldn't mind you rustling me up a cup of coffee."

With a slight wink at Bob Patterson, Martha walked out of the office with Hellboy following behind. Five minutes later, she found herself seated in a chair in the front row of the chapel. Hellboy, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her, picked lint off the carpet with the fingers of his left hand.

After a few moments, he looked up into her face, marveling how unchanged she was—even though she was much older than when they had first met. Dressed in jeans and a navy blue pullover sweater, her now graying hair pulled back in it's usual bun, she reminded him so much of the woman he had met in Boston on Thanksgiving Day in 1951 when he was six years old and already over six feet tall.

And just like that day in 1951, Hellboy eventually blurted out everything that was on his mind. Whatever it was that he admitted to Martha about his feelings for Kate and his strange confrontation with the demonic rat that had seized her, she never told to anyone. Yet, he never forgot her simple words of wisdom—words that eased much of his anxiety both over past actions and future intentions.

Kate Corrigan and Elizabeth Sherman, the woman Hellboy eventually wed, would both assert that he was always the most gentle of lovers. Regardless of how sarcastic, juvenile, and argumentative he could be at times, he always treated them as if their love for him was something priceless and special; a treasure never to be taken for granted.

And even though Hellboy's relationship with Trevor Broom became somewhat unstable in later years, this advice from Martha and other future advice helped keep it from degenerating completely.

About an hour after they had left, Hellboy and Martha returned to the office, Hellboy bearing a tray of coffee for everyone. They were just about to enter when Trevor Broom arrived. Shifting his cane to his left hand, Broom pulled the door open for them and entered in behind them. Just as he was planning to inquire after Kate, he saw her standing near Abe's tank speaking with Abe, Lee, and Bob.

As soon as Kate noticed that Trevor Broom had walked in, she launched herself into his arms—knocking the cane out of Broom's hand in the process. For some years, they had been relating to each other more as adult colleagues. Yet, at this point, Kate could feel nothing more than the joy of being held in the arms of one who had looked on her as an almost daughter since she was nineteen.

Too moved to even speak, Trevor Broom held on to her for a very long time. "My dear," Broom said, as he finally let go, "If I was younger, I never would have retired to bed before seeing you; no matter how exhausted I felt. I'm just not as strong as I once was."

Kate shook her head, as she stooped to retrieve the cane Broom had dropped when they embraced. Kissing his cheek as she returned it, she said with a smile, "After everything you went through to effect Mindy's and my rescue, Trevor, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for."

Wishing to conceal his self-consciousness at these heightened emotions, Hellboy had busied himself setting up a table and chairs in front of the fire. After retrieving his cane from Kate, Broom turned to find that Bob and Martha had seated themselves at the table and were now deep in mugs of coffee. He moved to greet them, wondering what had brought them to Newark at such an interesting time.

Abe and Kate watched Hellboy, who had heated a pot of water on a hob in the fireplace, expertly fuss with a teapot. Kate smiled, knowing why he was such an old hand at tea brewing; but this unexpected culinary talent surprised Abe. Then a vivid picture came into his mind of a much younger, but only slightly smaller, Hellboy carrying a tray of tea along a hospital corridor and almost walking into a young girl. He realized this was probably a remnant of the Kate-related memories he had absorbed from Hellboy during the earlier melding of their minds.

Soon everyone was seated together at the table, some partaking of the coffee and others the excellent tea Hellboy had just prepared. As Hellboy looked around him, he began to think that maybe his thirty-fourth birthday on Saturday might herald the arrival of a new and better time in his life.

* * *

**_Epilogue—December 2004_**

Hellboy stood staring into the fireplace in his father's office. The spot where he was standing was almost exactly the location where he had breakfasted in 1978 when Trevor Broom had informed him of the discovery of a fish-man who had been dubbed Abraham Sapien. Sometimes that fateful morning seemed like just yesterday, rather than more than twenty-six years before.

It was his birthday again and he couldn't help recalling his birthday in 1978. Lee had sent him off on a minor mission that ended up being more of a wild goose chase than anything else. When he had returned hours later, he found that his old bed was gone and a red truck set up in its place; completely adapted into the perfect bed for someone of his size and weight.

He later learned that Abe, with Trevor Broom's assistance, had spent all of his Bureau allowance in purchasing the truck so admired by Hellboy the morning they rescued Kate. In the cab of the truck, he discovered a basket containing four gray-striped kittens, the accompanying note identifying them as a gift from 'your forever friends, Walt and Mindy'.

As Hellboy stood and pondered these memories, he came to realize that the closing of the year 1978 had contained the seeds of dreams that were later fulfilled, solemn promises that were later broken, and nightmares that later came true.

His friendship with Kate Corrigan had managed to survive the ups and downs of a romantic relationship not destined to last. His relationship with his 'brother' Abe Sapien had survived the frictions of two almost opposite personalities. Mindy and Walter Carlton had indeed remained 'forever friends' and Mindy named her first son Trevor. Bob Patterson and Martha Wilson had always retained a significant relationship with him until they passed away.

Hellboy's thoughts then led him to the last time he had seen the one he always called 'Lee'—the day of Trevor Broom's funeral. For his nightmares, both about the 'Right Hand of Doom' and of something terrible happening on November 1st, had come true in the most devastating way.

As Hellboy stooped to examine the faded patch of blood on the red carpet where Trevor Broom had been stabbed to death, Abe Sapien walked in looking for him. Abe was still recovering from his recent severe injuries, but had been let out of the Medical Wing to attend Hellboy's sixtieth birthday party.

"C'mon, Red, we've got all the makings for a great party, but no guest of honor. I'm sure the Professor would not have wanted you to pine like this."

Hellboy got up from his kneeling position. To Abe's surprise, he was smiling. "Not exactly pining, Blue, just sort of thinking. I'm planning on popping Liz the question tonight; think she'll say yes?"

"I'm certain she will. And I don't even need to use my bigwig special psychic powers to read that one. You two have literally been glowing ever since you returned from Moscow."

Turning to leave the office with Abe, Hellboy also turned away from broken promises. As much as he regretted these, he knew there was no way to change the past—only to move ahead into his future.

The man that he had called his father was gone, but Hellboy was glad that he still had his 'brother' Abe at his side to face that future with him.

_End of Chapter Five _

**Author's afterword:** I never intended Chapter Five to be quite so long, but am not disappointed with how it turned out. It's the longest sustained narrative I have ever written and I would like to thank all of you who have stuck it out until the end. Thanks, especially, to those who have encouraged me with your reviews and other communications.

For those of you who are interested, my fic Flowers for Mother: A Hellboy Tale of Thanksgiving tells in more detail of Hellboy's relationship with Martha Wilson. It was the first fic that I wrote where an original character took center stage.

_Next Chapter: Six: Liz Sherman_.


	40. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 1

_Apology: Sorry, this took so long. Lots and lots of ideas, but I had a hard time getting an angle on how I wanted to write this chapter. Thanks a million to all who have been giving such wonderful reviews to the earlier chapters of Hellboy's Family._

**Author's notes and Disclaimer: **I finally got to the chapter on Liz in Hellboy's Family. Of course, the main characters aren't mine. I wish they were; I'd be a lot richer. If you don't recognize a character from either the movie or the original comics, they belong to me.

**Reminder:** My Hellboy fanfics are mainly based on the movie, even though I borrow some of my ideas from the original comics. The character of Elizabeth 'Liz' Sherman as portrayed in Guillermo del Toro's film has several points of departure from the character as presented in Mike Mignola's Hellboy comics.

Three main differences stand out:

1. Liz Sherman is older in the original comics; having been born in 1962 in Kansas City, she is eleven in 1973 when she inadvertently pyrokinetically causes the fire that destroys an entire city block, including her own family. In the movie, she was born in 1975 and is living in Detroit where a similar conflagration occurs when she is eleven years old in 1986.

2. In the comics, she is a chain-smoker and has red hair. In the movie, she is a non-smoker with shoulder-length raven-black hair.

3. Mike Mignola portrays her relationship with Hellboy in the comics as a close friend and fellow Bureau colleague, not as a potential romantic interest. Mignola doesn't deal with romance in his Hellboy comics, but various hints lead to Liz possibly being romantically aligned with Abe. Other hints in Mignola's original comics suggest pairing Hellboy with Bureau folklore consultant Kate Corrigan, whose character does not appear in the movie.

As far as I can tell from the movie backstories, Guillermo del Toro has Hellboy and Liz first meet when she comes to the Bureau in her late teens. In the original Hellboy comics, you first see Hellboy and Liz together as adult colleagues. However, in the first issue of the B.P.R.D. spin-off comics their first meeting when she was eleven is detailed in a flashback. I adapt that idea in what I write in this chapter and also establish Kate Corrigan as an old friend and former lover.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love_—Part One_**

**_Branch Brook Park, Newark, New Jersey  
Wednesday, December 23, 2178_**

Slumping on a stone bench, thankfully strong enough to support him, Hellboy gazed pensively across a lake at the newly restored façade of Newark's Cathedral Basilica of the Sacred Heart. The view was only partially obscured by the bare branches of trees, some of which would be covered in a blaze of cherry blossoms by the spring.

Having been a relatively warm winter so far, there was little in the way of snow. It was just after seven in the morning; sunrise was still some minutes away. As the southern corner of the park where he was seated was somewhat isolated and the park only recently opened for the day, Hellboy hoped he would be left undisturbed by others.

Now a fully recognized citizen of what had become the United States of North America and long the chief director of the Bureau his adoptive father had founded in his infancy, Hellboy had ostensibly returned to Newark to inspect the still existing facilities located there. The true reason was that he was homesick; especially now that fish-man Abraham Sapien, the very last of the 'family' from Hellboy's earliest decades, had moved on after almost two centuries of partnership.

Abe had recently retired from the Bureau, requesting transport to an uncharted island south of the Bahamas and desiring to be left alone there. That was the last time Hellboy had seen or heard from his long-time friend and partner. He wasn't sure if Abe was alive or dead, or even completely transformed in some further metamorphosis; he just knew he was gone and would never return.

"My God, you're Hellboy!" Turning away from his contemplation of the cathedral, he found he was looking up at a tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed boy, possibly in his late teens. He was dressed in jeans and a black denim jacket. Hellboy was annoyed by this unexpected interruption; but he was still somewhat amused that contemporary kids' dress had once again managed to turn back the clock to the century he had been born in.

"Sorry, kid," he grumbled, "Not much in the mood, if you know what I mean."

He planned on turning away again, but instead watched as several conflicting emotions chased over the boy's vaguely familiar features. The teen shrugged, "Yeah, sure; sorry I bothered you."

"Nah, no bother, kid," Hellboy strangely found he wanted to talk to the boy, to admit exactly what was troubling him. Yet, no words would come and he remained silent as the boy walked away.

After a few minutes, Hellboy wearily closed his eyes. He had already felt lonely before this encounter, now he felt even worse. Opening his eyes again, he looked around him. He then got up from his bench and walked further along the lakeside to where the boy was dejectedly tossing little pebbles, disturbing the water's smooth surface. The boy studiously ignored the seven-foot tall, red-skinned demon that towered over him by almost a foot.

With a sudden smile, Hellboy bent and retrieved a small, flat stone; he sent it skipping over the surface of the lake with an expert flick of his left hand. The stone made four good hops and several little dribbles before sinking into the middle of the narrow lake.

The boy looked up at Hellboy, returning his smile, and then picked up a similar flat stone; with a flick of his right hand, he attempted Hellboy's feat. After one feeble hop, the stone sank into the water.

Hellboy made a great effort not to laugh at this attempt, but he couldn't help it. Chagrined at first, the teen soon joined him. "That was pretty bad, wasn't it, Red? Oh, by the way, happy birthday."

"Yeah, I guess it is my birthday," Hellboy said after a brief silence, his smile fading, "I haven't celebrated that in a hundred years; _not since Liz died_," he added in a whisper.

Hefting another larger rock in his gigantic stone-like right hand, Hellboy slammed it into the placid lake with enough force to cause a huge geyser of water to spring on high before crashing back down to the surface. Hoping the water that splashed into his face would hide from the boy any tears that insisted on forming, he shook the water from his tan coat.

Brushing water from his denim jacket, the boy glanced over at Hellboy. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"That's okay, kid," Hellboy looked a little more closely at the youth standing next to him, trying to recall where he might have met him before. He had seldom been to Newark since the main Bureau headquarters had relocated fifty years previous to its new facilities in Washington, D.C.; and yet the boy's face, especially his brown-with-a-fleck-of-green eyes, reminded him of someone.

"Sorry about the water; sometimes I still forget my own strength," Hellboy again stared out across the lake at the just-visible spires of the cathedral, then turned back to the boy, "Look, kid, you seem to know an awful lot about me and you look kinda familiar, but I can't place you. What's your name?"

Giving Hellboy an odd little grin, the boy more successfully skipped a flat stone across the lake before answering the question. "The name's Trevor; after my mother's great-great grandfather. They say I look something like his grandfather, Walter Carlton; but I think I'm a bit taller."

Hellboy was struck speechless at this revelation. He watched as Trevor dug into one of his jeans pockets and brought out an e-wallet, speaking into a voice-activated organizer.

"Access family photos; section 'H', subsection 'B'." A screen lit up on the front of the wallet and a picture swam into focus. "It's a digital copy of a very old photo, so it's a little grainy."

Peering into the screen, Hellboy saw a copy of a photograph he had avoided looking at for decades. Photographs, like this one, had become too painful a reminder of mortality—not of his own, but that of the people around him. He looked into the happy faces in this old photograph: himself, Trevor Broom, Abe Sapien, Kate Corrigan, Walter Carlton and his daughter Mindy—and again felt the bereavement of being the only one left out of this group.

Hellboy shook his head. "I sorta let myself lose track of Walt's descendants a real long time ago. Kinda thought they didn't…"

"You're right, Red; most of them didn't," Trevor interrupted with a small, sad smile, "But there've always been a few who wanted to remember. That's why I'm named Trevor and why I'm here today; to celebrate the Mass in honor of the family hero."

Blinking in surprise, Hellboy looked up from the photograph he had still been contemplating.

"Mass in honor of the 'family hero'? Holy shit, you mean me?"

Trevor smiled more broadly, "Sure do. Sacred Heart's celebrated it on every December 23rd at 7:30 in the morning ever since the year 1978. Walter Carlton donated a lot of money to the cathedral for a Mass to be said in perpetuity 'for the intentions of the man who saved my daughter'."

Hellboy again looked at the photograph. Walter Carlton stood next to Hellboy; one arm around Hellboy's shoulders, the other holding his daughter, Mindy, close to him.

Shaking his head, Hellboy looked up again, "Jeez, I never knew Walt did that. He never said a word."

Smiling, Trevor shoved the wallet back into his jeans pocket when Hellboy handed it back to him. "You know, it's almost time for that Mass to start. I understand Trevor Broom raised you as a Catholic. How about going with me? The priest's my sister; she'll get a kick out of meeting you, too."

Sighing, Hellboy again looked over the lake at the cathedral; noting that the rising sun was starting to spread its rays from behind the impressive structure. He looked over at Trevor. "Maybe I'm all legit and stuff now, but I'm still not very welcome in most places of worship," he jerked his head at the towering Gothic edifice, "specially not places like that, a cathedral and everything. Most of the time, I don't mind what people think of me; you get used to it after a while. There're a lot of churches where I've gone, but a place like that's a bit different."

Hellboy turned away from both the cathedral and Trevor as if planning on walking away, but he stopped with his back to Trevor and continued speaking. "You know, Trevor Broom's funeral was held in that cathedral. He was the guy that raised me, for God's sake, and I didn't even get to go anywhere near the place. Even if they threw open the central doors, blew a trumpet, and God himself invited me in…" He turned back to Trevor and to Trevor's surprise Hellboy was smiling, "Hey, maybe I am being invited, finally, to go in there; but I don't think I'm ready."

Digging his left hand into one of the pockets of his coat, Hellboy pulled out a small electronic chit. "Would you believe they make me carry these stupid business cards now?" He handed it to Trevor, "Keep in touch, okay? Now, go on before you're late for your hero's Mass."

Trevor filed the electronic card in his e-wallet and nodded, not trusting himself to say any more to persuade Hellboy to come with him. 'He looks different when he smiles,' he thought to himself as he walked away; having no idea that this was very similar to what Walter Carlton, his great grandfather, many times removed, thought of Hellboy the first time he met the big red guy.

_More to come… _

**Author's afterword: **Yes, this chapter is really going to be about the developing of Hellboy's relationship with Liz and about the further course of his relationships with Trevor Broom and Abe. But, for some strange reason, Liz keeps coming at me from the vantage point of how her story with Hellboy ends (before I even get around to writing the beginning of it). What comes later in this chapter will be intimately connected to my Hellboy fics Family Portrait and The New Girl. It might be a good idea to read (or re-read) these while you're waiting for Part Two of this. Also, if you haven't read the earlier chapters in Hellboy's Family, you will encounter mention of events or characters deriving from these earlier chapters. Walter and Mindy Carlton derive from Chapter Five.

Branch Brook Park is a real park in Newark. It is the first park to be designated in the US as a county park. The Cathedral Basilica of the Sacred Heart can, indeed, be seen from this park. It was my own idea, in some of my earlier Hellboy fics, to place Trevor Broom's funeral in that beautiful church.


	41. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 2

**Author's notes: **Thanks to all who have read and/or reviewed _Part One_. If you haven't, it might be a good idea to do so. In what I write below, I am vaguely basing dates and events on my own combination of the movie and the original comics. The date I use for Hellboy's 'birthday' derives from the original comics—for some odd reason the movie uses another date. The placing of other significant events in the life of Hellboy on his birthday is my own adaptation of backstory material.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****_—Part Two_**

**_Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense  
Adjunct Headquarters, Newark, New Jersey  
Thursday, December 24, 2178_**

Hellboy paced nervously in the large room that had been converted into an office for his personal use when visiting the facility that at one time had been the place he called home. This room opened onto another slightly smaller room that contained his sleeping quarters and bath facilities. It was still quite early in the morning; he had not slept well the night before and was still wearing nothing more than the black shorts he usually dressed in when first getting out of bed.

Except for his partnership with Abraham Sapien, Hellboy had suppressed many memories connected to his past life in Newark. The unexpected reminder, on the previous morning, of the personal importance of that day had shaken his ability to block some of the more significant of these memories.

December 23rd was the day the infant Hellboy first appeared in 1944. Trevor Broom always looked upon this as Hellboy's 'birthday' and thought the proximity to Christmas Eve of special significance. For almost sixty years, this was a time of special sharing between father and son. Others were eventually drawn into this sharing—especially Abe Sapien and Liz Sherman.

Hellboy's birthday also marked other significant events connected to Liz. It was on this day in 1986 when he first met the eleven-year-old 'Lizzie'. And it was on this same day eighteen years later that Elizabeth Anne Sherman agreed to marry the personage officially known as 'Trevor Bruttenholm, III' on his baptismal and marriage certificates.

Liz passed away on December 23rd in the year 2078, after almost seventy-four years of marriage. Unfortunately, the memory of her death tainted what had once been such a special time for him.

After Liz's death, Hellboy found it difficult to allow himself to ever become that close to anyone again. He may have had occasional one-night stands or weekend flings with attractive and willing women; yet, these encounters never even came close to developing into anything long-term. In fact, the only lasting relationships he allowed into his life were with the Bureau agents and other government employees he worked with; but, even with these colleagues, he kept a friendly distance.

Continuing his nervous pacing, Hellboy sighed. As long as Abe had still been around him, he could sense a vague, yet unshakable, connection to his past. Abe's recent departure from the Bureau left him feeling completely adrift, without anchor or support.

Coming not long after this new bereavement, the unexpected encounter with the young Trevor Carlton had disturbed Hellboy. He felt an immediate attraction to the youth and not merely because of Trevor's connection to his past. It was almost as if he was being given another chance to again allow someone to become intimately close to him; and this frightened him more than he liked to admit.

Finally stopping his interminable pacing, Hellboy shook his head. "It doesn't do to get too attached," he mumbled to himself, "I'm just setting myself up to get hurt again."

Passing back into his sleeping quarters, Hellboy slipped off the shorts; eventually donning black leather pants, tee shirt, and work boots. Regardless of shifts in styles, this had always been his 'uniform' of choice over the centuries. The only changes being that the leather and cotton were now synthetically replicated and the boots were much easier to fasten one-handed than his original boots.

Forgoing his usual humongous breakfast, Hellboy decided to depart his office and meander through the various maze-like corridors that comprised the underground portion of the Newark Bureau facility. They were not as heavily populated as they once had been before the main Bureau headquarters transferred to Washington, D.C. As Hellboy made his slow way into a now seldom-visited Section 51, the few people located there greeted him with thinly veiled surprise.

The only resource in Section 51 that was still in use was the collection of tomes and reference works housed in what had once been Trevor Broom's office. Since Hellboy never found himself amenable either to research or to much reading, even for pleasure, he seldom made use of this vast library.

Outside of the life-sized wooden sculpture of Michael the Archangel slaying Satan, many of the relics and artifacts once located in the library and the corridors outside of it had been relocated to Washington, D.C. They were now to be found within the Smithsonian Institution in a pavilion that had been dedicated as **_The Professor Trevor Bruttenholm Memorial Museum of the Paranormal_**.

Due to the uncanny or magical provenance of various of the relics, printed materials, and handwritten manuscripts located in Newark, the most unique of these special materials were left in their original location to be used only by people with the strictest clearance. Other works and reference books, whose origins were not so mysterious, were either reproduced in facsimile editions or scanned into a special database and were now also collected in the Smithsonian Institution's 'Trevor Broom' pavilion.

The rest of Section 51 had been comprised of the offices and private quarters of Trevor Broom and his closest associates. After the relocation to Washington, Hellboy had all the locks on these replaced with ones that would only open at the touch of his left palm. These rooms were then permanently sealed and he had never entered them again; including the large cement room that had been his own private quarters and the room he shared with Liz after their return from Moscow in November of 2004.

During the decades of Trevor Broom's tenure as director of the Bureau, his office had been kept open at all times; since only personnel with clearance could even get as far as its door. After his death, Hellboy had kept it that way until the transfer to Washington. The office was now constantly locked, but still utilized, at times, by specially designated personnel. One of Hellboy's excuses for this visit to Newark had been to check on the library and also to arrange for the final sealing of Abe's quarters, which were still keyed to open at the now departed fish-man's touch.

But that was not truly the real reason for the visit. Hellboy knew this, even though he was reluctant to acknowledge the immense feeling of emptiness that had driven him back to the location of his life together with Liz Sherman.

Palming the lock next to the library door, Hellboy pushed it open and looked in.

"Hey, guys," he said to the two research agents located there, "Much up?"

"Not too much, Boss." Agent Barfield Owens grinned as he looked up from a concealed computer terminal that did nothing to detract from the old fashioned look of the office/library. "Just some weird stuff in ancient cemeteries in the south of Mexico. Nothing much to be worried about yet, it seems."

"Decapitated chickens involved again?" questioned Hellboy, looking over the agent's shoulder at the information on the screen.

"Nah, it seems unrelated to last year's 'chicken episodes'; but we're keeping track just to make sure."

"Okay," Hellboy straightened up as he grinned back at Agent Owens, "Keep up the good work, Bart."

Owens nodded, turning back to the information he had retrieved.

The other agent, Raphael Wilton, was the newest federal employee allocated to the Bureau and had only met Hellboy a few times since he had first been assigned. Consulting information on a hand-held data access terminal, he turned as Hellboy finished addressing Agent Owens.

"Red, it looks like you've got another of these swamp monster thingies in Louisiana again," Wilton said as he looked closer at the gadget in his hand, "Similar to the one that caused this Elizabeth Sherman so much trouble back in 1994." Not seeing the frantic hand gestures with which Owens was silently trying to get his attention, Wilton continued in an amused voice, "This Agent Sherman seemed more like a 'damsel in distress' than a trained agent, if the file on this case is anything to go by."

Owens sighed in frustration as Hellboy moved closer to Wilton, slowly lashing his tail back and forth. "You're kinda new 'round here, Wilt," Hellboy uttered in a deceptively quiet tone, "so, I'll forget all about it this once; but only just this once."

He suddenly reached out with his huge right hand and grabbed the hapless agent up by the front of his dark BPRD-stamped uniform tee shirt. The hand-held monitor clattered to the floor, as Wilton found himself nose-to-nose with a now very angry demon; his feet barely touched the library carpet.

"But you say one more thing, Wilted Lettuce," Hellboy growled louder, shaking Wilton, "One more tiny, little thing, about my Lizzie and there won't be enough of you left for a funeral."

Wilton staggered slightly, as Hellboy released him before turning and stalking out of the office.

"Not one of your smarter moves, Rafe," whispered Owens, "I know you're a rookie and a lot here is new to you—but I guess you didn't look at enough of Agent Sherman's file to get who she was."

Still shaken, Wilton shrugged, "Nope; just her involvement in that Louisiana swamp monster case."

Retrieving the fallen access terminal, Owens handed it back to Wilton. "Maybe you'd better take another look at Elizabeth Sherman's file, Rafe. It might be a great idea to look at the whole thing; really very instructive, you know."

He lowered his voice even further. "Let me clue you into some unspoken, but very real Bureau rules—First, we never mention Elizabeth Sherman to the big, red guy; never, not under any circumstances. Second, the same thing applies to Trevor Broom. Maybe you could possibly get away with a little mention here and there; but you had better make damn sure to steer clear of anything that could sound the least bit disrespectful of his memory. Thirdly, I think it might be good to add a new rule—No unnecessary talking about Abe Sapien. The big guy doesn't deal well with losses and he's not really taking Abe's departure all that well."

Wilton looked at the terminal in his hand again. "Maybe I'd better take this back to my quarters and read up on certain Bureau personnel of the past. It's probably safer to be better informed."

"Definitely safer, Rafe," Owens said with a grin, as he turned back to the information he was scanning.

Still clutching the data monitor in his hand, Wilton pulled open one of the still-beautifully-carved golden oak doors to the library and started out into the corridor beyond. As he set off to depart Section 51 in order to head for his own quarters, he was interrupted by an unexpected voice.

"Hey, Wilton, wait up." Wilton turned to face Hellboy, who had seemed to loom up with little warning from a shadowed corner of the corridor.

Wilton assumed that Hellboy would have been long gone from Section 51 by then. He clutched the data monitor even closer. "Um, Red, I, uh… I'm sorry, I never meant…"

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, I overreacted." To Wilton's surprise, Hellboy smiled slightly, "Keep me posted on what's up in Louisiana and I'll promise not to shake your teeth out of your head the next time you report to me. Owens is right; reading up on the old files is a good idea. In this job, a little knowledge of the past can go a long way. Monsters often turn up for repeat engagements."

Turning away from Wilton, Hellboy continued down the corridor toward the large metal door of his former quarters; a door that he hadn't opened since he had moved to Washington fifty years before.

He wondered if he was ready to face what he had locked behind that door—memories that were pleading for him to release them and re-experience the love contained within them. None of these memories held a more fearsome power than his memories of his love for Elizabeth Sherman; and how, to his own profound amazement, she had completely returned his love.

He stood for a long moment before unlocking the door. When he finally dragged open the large door and passed through, some lights automatically flickered to life. A brief examination of the room showed that the automatic cleaning and ventilation system he had installed when first sealing the room had worked very well.

After pulling the door closed after him, he walked over to the old red pickup truck that he had used for so many years as a bed. Sitting on the mattress still located in the back of the truck, he took a closer look at his former quarters.

Nothing had changed since he had last seen it. His old television sets were still there. As most had been gifts from Trevor Broom, he never could bear to discard them; even though most had become nonfunctional long before he stopped using the room.

One wall of the room was covered with framed photographs of people who had been important to Hellboy at one time. He himself was in very few of these; but there was one of him as a young child with Trevor Broom, another of him with Trevor Broom and a nineteen-year-old Liz, and the original of the digital photograph shown to him the morning before by Trevor Carlton.

He closed his eyes, swearing the room still seemed filled with a faint scent of flowers deriving from the natural cleansing agents Liz had preferred. As sat breathing in a memory that he had spent almost a half a century running away from, he felt a familiar sensation; a cat had just jumped into his lap.

Not having had any pets since he moved away from Newark, he should have been surprised at this; yet, he was not surprised at all. First opening his eyes to peer down at this intruder, he then gently stroked the brilliant white fur of the larger-than-normal cat with his left hand. Closing its dazzlingly bright blue eyes, the cat began to purr loudly.

After a long while of petting, Hellboy said in a low voice, "It's been a while, hasn't it, Malachy?"

"Not since the flight back from Moscow in 2004," came the answer. The voice, though quiet, filled the entire room; it came from nowhere in particular, rather than appearing to come directly from the cat.

Leaping down from Hellboy's lap, the cat morphed into a tall, slender young man. Hellboy had first met this eccentric incarnation of Michael the Archangel in 1978. Rather than the long hair he had worn then, his radiantly white hair was cropped short into the spiky look currently popular with the sophisticated set. Now dressed in tight-fitting black jeans, midnight-blue tee shirt, and original-style penny loafers, Malachy's man-like appearance was a lot more solid looking than in the past.

"Penny loafers?" Hellboy laughed, "Jeez, I haven't seen those since the last retro-fifties period."

Malachy shrugged, "I suppose I could've picked up some sandals from ancient Rome or old-style American cowboy boots, but that wouldn't have fit the look I was after." Not liking what he sensed, Malachy looked closer at Hellboy. "And here it's Christmas Eve and you haven't even hung up one single decoration. You used to love to decorate. What's up with you?

The grin that Hellboy had on his face faded. "I don't need this crap. Why don't you just buzz off?"

Malachy had moved away toward a dark corner of the room. As he started to pull out something large and flat, covered with a sheet, he glared back at Hellboy, "Getting a little cheeky, aren't you, big guy? I may have wings in some of my many incarnations, but I don't buzz; ever."

Ignoring the humorous sarcasm, Hellboy's face spasmed in anger as he noticed what Malachy was hauling out from the corner. It was the odd 'portrait' that had come to Hellboy on the Christmas Eve after his eightieth birthday. At the time, he had cherished this mysterious canvas; convinced that in some strange way it had been a gift from his then long-dead adoptive father, Trevor Broom.

Regardless of not being completely aware of its true origins, he knew he could always look into its abstract swirls of color and see vivid images of himself with loved ones who had passed on; especially the man who had raised him. At one time, Hellboy would spend hours contemplating this fascinating portrait. In doing so, he could still feel close to all the people he had lost over the years.

"Put that damn thing back where you got it from," he growled, "I haven't looked at it since Liz died and I won't look at it now."

Disregarding Hellboy's anger, Malachy propped the large framed canvas against Hellboy's metal table and drew off the sheet covering it. In spite of himself, Hellboy felt compelled to look at the painting he had not looked at in a century. Expecting to again see the same images of himself with Liz that had so grieved him on the day she died, he was taken aback that he saw nothing but utter darkness.

When this portrait had first come to him, he had looked upon it as a magical window on his past; maybe even a small glimpse of that heaven his adoptive father had so believed in. What it now showed looked more like the deepest pits of Hell—cold, bleak, despairing. Hellboy stood completely frozen in that moment of sight, unable to move or speak.

"Ah, I was afraid of that," Hellboy heard Malachy say, as he finally managed to drag his gaze away from that horrifying darkness. He turned toward the being that now appeared to be the only spot of brightness in his room. There was a moment of silence before Malachy asked an unexpected question.

"Do you remember your fifth birthday when Trevor Broom offered everything he had to protect you; or the nurse who was almost as a mother to you; or the first time you saw Abe Sapien; or the time you first made love to Kate Corrigan; or the day you married Elizabeth Sherman? Do you really and truly remember them, or do you merely remember that these things happened?"

"Of course, I remember them," Hellboy instinctively started to say. He broke off, gasping in dismay, "God, this is just so weird," he moved closer to Malachy, "What's happening to me?"

Malachy shook his head. "Hellboy, you have been attempting to protect yourself from the grief of losing those you love by suppressing your memories of them and by refusing to ever love again. Remember this, love is from Heaven. You can continue this process to its logical conclusion and lose that immortal soul the man who raised you was so convinced you had. That will be the only outcome of the path you are on now, for it is only in Hell that you can truly hide from the power of love."

Hellboy sighed, as he looked at the darkness his once cherished portrait had become. "I know exactly what I want, but I'm not sure I have the strength to do it."

Malachy walked up behind Hellboy. "First, you will have to regain your past. And, for you, the only way to regain it is to relive it."

Hellboy turned toward him, "My whole past? That's a hell of a lot of reliving to do."

Malachy smiled, "No, probably not your whole past; but only you, deep down inside, know which events of your life are the most important. I am aware you have deep regrets for things that you wish you had done differently. You will have a chance to rectify one and only one of these. Choose well; this choice will not be permitted to change what happened, but it will change you and the others around you. It will be quite interesting to see if this change will be for the better or for the worse."

Hellboy grunted, "Can't think of anything that is worse than what I have now. What do I need to do?"

Malachy made an arcane gesture and the portrait grew to enormous proportions. It now looked like a huge doorway onto a dark and uncertain vista. "Just step through and see where it leads you."

_More to come…_


	42. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 3

**Author's notes**: The form of Chapter Six is going to be a little eccentric. I hope it makes sense. What is below contains romance, but nothing graphic. The location I use is real. If you want to buy this island, it will only set you back about $23.5 million in today's money. All of the sun, moon, and tide information is historical.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love**

_**Interlude ** _

_He found himself in darkness, gradually realizing that he was seated on a hard surface with his back leaning up against a door; weeping, his arms held his knees tight against his chest. _

_"H.B.," a woman's voice entreated, "please open the door and come out." _

_"Go away, Marty," he shouted, "just go away and leave me alone." _

_"I can't go away, dear, even if I wanted to. I need supplies out of that closet." _

_"He's going to die! I know he will! I just know it," he gasped. _

_"I'll be left all alone." It was a forlorn whisper that could just barely be heard. _

_The nurse on the other side of the door heaved a sigh, "Look, H.B., we both know that he's very sick; but the cancer's not as bad as you think it is and the chemotherapy's starting to make a difference." _

_"How do I know you're not lying just to make me feel better, Marty?" he asked with a little sniffle. _

_"I would never lie to you, H.B.," the nurse said even more firmly, "You should know that by now." _

_"Would you really tell me if he was dying, Marty? Really and truly?" _

_"That kind of news shouldn't come first from me, dear," she replied gently, "I am certain Trevor would tell you himself if that were truly the case. He's never hidden his illness from you. And you know that even if he were to die, he would always make sure you were taken care of. You won't ever be alone—not unless you lock yourself away in the dark, like you're doing now. You'll have to trust me on this." _

_Finally standing and pulling the door open, fourteen-year-old Hellboy threw himself into the arms of the nurse waiting in the hallway and wept on her shoulder; having the weirdest sense of déjà vu that he had performed this very same action somewhere, sometime centuries before. _

_The scene shifted abruptly and everything went even colder and darker. His entire body was being held down by a weight of water. "Open your eyes and move toward the light," he heard a familiar voice shouting, "It's the only way; stop struggling and just let yourself float toward the surface." _

_**Part Three ** _

_**Little Ragged Island: the south Bahamas  
Saturday, February 14, 1987 ** _

Hellboy suddenly broke through the surface, coughing and retching. He tried to look annoyed at the tanned, blond-haired woman in the blue bikini that was swimming next to him; but couldn't help laughing along with her. Kate Corrigan swam adeptly away from his clumsy attempt to seize her.

"I told you to duck under that wave rather than trying to jump over it. Bet you're sorry you didn't listen to me. You have to admit, Hellboy, that you're not the most graceful swimmer in the world; even if you can hold your breath for an extraordinarily long amount of time."

Hellboy stuck his tongue out at Kate. "You try swimming sometime with a right hand that's nothing but dead weight. And my stupid tail got in the way." Just as he spoke another large wave rushed in. This time, he did duck instead of jump; which maneuver was much more successful.

"I think I'm starting to get the hang of this," he said, shaking the salt water out of his hair, which was starting to come undone from its usual knot. He lunged again at Kate, who laughingly swam away from his grasp. Hellboy then looked back toward the location where Trevor Broom had been standing knee-deep in the water. "Aw, crap, Pop just got knocked over; I told him not to wade out too far."

"Go ahead and stay out here if you want, Kate. I'm going to make sure he's all right." Half swimming, half floundering, Hellboy made his way as quickly as possible nearer the shore to the place where he had seen Trevor Broom fall into the water.

Arriving just as his adoptive father was raising himself onto his hand and knees, Hellboy helped him to stand up again. "You want I should help you back to your cabin, Pop?" he asked, as he brushed globs of wet sand off of the tee shirt Broom was wearing and fetched his sun hat out of the water.

"No, I think I'll stay in the water a little longer, " Broom laughed, shaking the salt water out of his hat and then replacing it on his head. "I found my unexpected dunking quite exhilarating. I'll just have to be more careful the next time the wave is so large. Why don't you return to Kate? You two looked like you were having so much fun."

"We were having fun, Pop, but I think I'll stay with you for a bit. We almost never get to do things together like this. Kate's a good swimmer; she'll be okay by herself for a while. And Abe must be having a great time exploring. We haven't seen him since last night."

Not long after Hellboy had left her, Kate ducked under another large wave. When she had bobbed to the surface, she found herself facing the shore instead of out to sea. She noticed that after Hellboy had gone to be with him, Trevor Broom dared to venture a little further out into the water.

Kate found it amusing to watch this pale-skinned, small-framed seventy-year-old man cling to his much more massively framed 'son'. Hellboy's bright-red skin seemed to glow even more vibrantly after long exposure to the sun; making his rather tight-fitting black swim trunks look even darker. Definitely enjoying this sight, Kate watched him until she had to deal with another large wave.

Walter Carlton had arranged this trip for Trevor Broom, Hellboy, Kate, and Abe Sapien as a Valentine's gift and also as a way of thanking them for rescuing his daughter, Mindy, back in December of 1978. Now retired, Walter had managed his finances well during his years as a restaurateur and had amassed a considerable savings, investing a portion of this as a silent partner in a local travel agency.

_"It's about time you got around to taking 'your Katie' off on some sort of honeymoon trip, you know; and I'll bet you've never had a chance to go anywhere with Trevor or Abe unless you guys were chasing some damn monster all over the place. You all deserve a real vacation." _

Walter had said this when Hellboy objected to the money this must have cost him. Then there was all that finagling the now retired 'Lee' went through to convince Tom Manning, the current FBI liaison, that there was this demonic infestation somewhere in the Trinidad Mountains of Cuba; something that had to be dealt with directly by Trevor Broom accompanied by his best operatives and consultant.

Somehow, Walter had also managed to arrange for a collection of Trevor Broom's books and papers to be transported to the island with him. Broom loved being able to use some of his free time to catch up on neglected personal research. But he was the most grateful to be able to share this time with his adopted son and others he loved just as well; something he never could have financed himself.

Kate sometimes helped Broom with his research, but her evenings always belonged only to Hellboy. Together they inhabited a separate cabin. Between a well stocked bar, a huge entertainment center, and an enormous master bedroom they never had the time to even think about being bored.

In the beginning of the trip, Abe had stayed near the other three; but he quickly became intrigued with exploring everything that he could swim to within twenty-four hours. They soon saw very little of the fish-man as he finally got the chance to inhabit a more natural setting than his usual tanks.

As a rule, Trevor Broom explored the beach and ocean in the late afternoon. Newly developed sunscreens not withstanding, he still found himself too sensitive to the sun to venture outdoors too close to noon. As much as he had been enjoying exploring the water with Hellboy, it was not long before he could definitely hear his seven-foot-tall adopted son's stomach grumbling.

Looking at the waterproof watch he wore on his left wrist, he noted that the time was now just after five in the afternoon. "Well, Son, this has been very pleasant; but now I should go back to my cabin, clean up, and look into preparing supper." Hellboy assisted him out of the water and retrieved his cane from where it had been left near a chair and large beach umbrella.

Kate felt a little sorry that Trevor Broom insisted on doing all of the cooking. However, he made it clear that planning and preparing meals was something he regretted not having the time to do after becoming director of the BPRD.

And Kate was more than pleasantly surprised to find that not only was he an excellent cook, he also somehow managed to accommodate Hellboy's less sophisticated palate as well. He, himself, was just pleased that his cabin included such a well-stocked kitchen.

Watching with a smile as Trevor Broom limped toward his cabin, Hellboy felt deeply thankful for what Walter had arranged. After seeing Broom was safely on his way, he again swam out to the location where Kate was still treading water; noting that the surf had become a lot calmer.

This time when Hellboy came near, Kate allowed him to grab her, throw her into the next wave that rolled in, and then pull her into his arms for a long, slow kiss. "Let's go get cleaned up," Hellboy said after they both had caught their breaths, "Pop's going to have dinner ready pretty soon and I've really worked up an enormous appetite today."

Kate laughed as they climbed out of the surf, "For once, I think I'm almost just as hungry as you are. Sun and surf always seem to leave a bottomless pit in place of my stomach."

While Hellboy and Kate showered and dressed, Trevor Broom had prepared an Asian-style salad with chicken, Mandarin oranges, and sesame-ginger dressing. This was certainly not to Hellboy's taste, who ate his way through an enormous portion of tacos, French-fries, and grilled-cheese sandwiches. Kate and Broom drank Jamaican ginger ale, while Hellboy drank several bottles of his favorite beer.

After they finished eating, the topic of dessert came up. Hellboy shook his head. "I've got something special for later; just for you and me," he said, with a wink at Kate, "Right now, I'm ready for a nap." He stood up from the table and held out his left hand, "Care to join me, Katie?"

Hand-in-hand, Hellboy and Kate departed for their own cabin and napped together; enjoying, as did Trevor Broom, the comfort of a centrally installed air conditioning system. Preparing an assortment of Abe's favorite foods, Broom stored it in his refrigerator in case the fish-man returned later that night; he then retired for the rest of the evening, more than exhausted by his afternoon in the sun.

Yet, as tired as he was, he had trouble falling asleep. Like Kate, he had also noticed the change in Hellboy's appearance over the last several days. Once again, he despised himself for far too often allowing the government to dictate how Hellboy was to be handled. He had always been more than aware how much Hellboy's overly confined life was affecting him, both physically and emotionally.

_'What a difference just a few days in the sun and open air can make,'_ he thought, and then smiled; the changes he noticed could be credited to more than just the delightful setting. Even though Broom had been hesitant at first over Hellboy's sporadic romantic relationship with Kate, he now recognized that this deepening of their long friendship had been beneficial for both of them.

Finding himself once again able to relax, Broom quickly drifted off to sleep, wondering what the 'something special' was that Hellboy was planning to share later with Kate.

When Kate woke up, after a longer nap than she had intended, she found herself alone in the bed. Getting up, she lowered the air conditioning considerably. It was nice for the hottest parts of the day; but at that time of year, the evenings could be noticeably cooler. The sun had already begun to set before they started eating dinner and dusk was now far advanced. Kate switched on the lights and, not finding Hellboy there, pulled on jeans and a warmer sweater; wandering outside to look for him.

The just-past-full moon had risen a few hours earlier, making the sands of the beach glow bright silver and the waves sparkle as they washed in. Hellboy came into view, walking along the water's edge. "Would you care to join me for a stroll?" he said with a little smile; which Kate returned as she drew her right arm through his left.

Together they walked back the direction he had just come from, toward the eastern side of the island. To their left they could make out the dark mass of coconut palms and other trees that almost completely filled the center of Little Ragged Island. They could see why it was called this as they made their silent, but companionable way along the jagged, wandering coastline.

After about ten minutes of walking, they came to a large red beach blanket spread out on the sand; surrounded by large candles in varied-colored plastic buckets. The candles had been lit, a chilled bottle of champagne set in an urn filled with ice, and a collection of dessert cakes placed on a plate.

As Kate and Hellboy sat on the blanket, he reached into a covered basket for plates, cloth napkins, flatware, and champagne glasses—in a setting for two where everything looked like beautiful crystal, but was really clear plastic. "The cakes and champagne were sent by Walt and Mindy," Hellboy said, as he popped the cork out of the champagne, "but the beach was my idea. I thought it was sorta romantic with this moon and all."

Kate smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "You're right, Hellboy; it is romantic and very beautiful. When did you find the time to set it up?"

"You slept longer than I did, Katie, and I found this basket complete with stuff for two in the kitchen. That gave me an idea," he said, as he pulled her closer for a real kiss. Until this time, Hellboy's ideal date consisted of a great Charlie Chaplin movie, bottles of some really good beer, and 'sexy Katie'; just as he once described to the demonic rat he had rescued Mindy and Kate from.

But these last several days had given him a taste of what could be possible for them if his private life wasn't largely confined to an underground facility. He definitely liked what he was discovering. Understanding that what was taking place on this unique Valentine's date would most likely never happen to him again, Hellboy was determined to make enough memories that night to last a lifetime.

The moon was much lower in the sky, the tide past low, and it was starting to become just a little brighter in the east, when a very tired and hungry Abe Sapien climbed out of the ocean on to the beach a distance away from the two cabins. His only idea was to make his way as quickly as possible to Trevor Broom's cabin in search for the food he was sure had been left for him in the refrigerator.

To his surprise, the first thing he encountered was his two closest friends fast asleep; rolled up together in a large red beach blanket. And since they were surrounded not only by the remnants of what they had eaten, but also by all of their clothing, it didn't take his powerful psychic abilities to figure out what they had been doing before they fell asleep. Squelching a definite twinge of envy that it was not he himself who held Kate in his arms rather than Hellboy, Abe continued on toward his goal.

The sun was just starting to rise as Hellboy gently extricated himself from the blanket, leaving Kate still sleeping. As he pulled his black leather pants back on, he could still hear the girl's voice that had interrupted his pleasant dreams. _"That memory lasted her a lifetime; you let yourself forget." _

"Lizzie," he mumbled aloud, "Funny, I've not thought of her in over a month."

"Who's Lizzie?" Kate inquired sleepily, as she sat up still wrapped in the blanket. Hellboy sat down on the sand next to her and gathered her up into his lap, blanket and all, for a lingering kiss.

"Remember that trip I had to make to Chicago right before my birthday last December…"

_More to come..._


	43. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 4

**Author's note: **This might not make sense if you haven't read Chapter Six from the beginning. Basically, Hellboy is being made to relive certain portions of his past life from the vantage point of the year 2178, one hundred years after the death of Liz.

Of course, the main characters in what is below belong either to Mike Mignola, for the original comic, or Guillermo del Toro, for the film adaptation. 'Lee', the former FBI liaison, Walter Carlton, his daughter, Mindy, and the restaurant waitresses are characters original to me. Some are newly developed for this, but others derive from my previous Hellboy fics. Kate Corrigan derives from the original comics, but how I use her is mainly original to me.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****—_Part Four _**

**_Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense  
Newark, New Jersey, March 2015 _**

Hellboy couldn't believe his ears when Tom Manning, current director of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, informed him that he and Liz would be permitted to have a party to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary; a real party in any restaurant they chose, a party where they could invite anyone they wanted—not just their Bureau colleagues.

"And the FBI is going to pay for the whole shebang," concluded Manning, finding it hard not to laugh at the stunned look on Hellboy's face.

He suppressed the instinct; as improved as their relationship had become over the last decade, laughing at Hellboy was still not something Manning cared to do.

For once rendered speechless, an excited Hellboy literally turned tail and rushed off to inform Liz of the interesting turn of events.

As Manning watched, he couldn't help recalling the return flight from Moscow in 2004. In many ways, he had been a very different person on that plane from the one who could see nothing more in Hellboy than an exasperating freak.

For the first time, he had been able to see Hellboy for what he truly was. Not a freak—but a son grieving the death of his father; a lover willing to risk all to save the woman he cherished; a man who, without a second thought for his own safety, had saved Manning's life—someone who had never treated Hellboy with an ounce of respect.

Manning snapped himself out of this reverie. "Unlike Hellboy, who seems to have nothing better to do than lounge around with his ladylove, I actually have work," he muttered, as he sat behind his desk.

Yet, it wasn't the veritable pile of folders covering the surface of his desk that caught Manning's eye, but a framed Polaroid picture of himself with Liz and Hellboy on the day of their wedding.

He hadn't been surprised when Hellboy had chosen Abe Sapien to be his best man, or Liz had chosen Kate Corrigan to stand with her; or that long-time friend Walter Carlton and his daughter Mindy had been chosen to cater the reception held in Trevor Broom's former office. But the fact that Liz had chosen Manning, himself, to give her away; that had surprised him.

Manning knew that Liz would have chosen Trevor Broom to give her away if he had still been alive. He was also aware that Hellboy, in his adoptive father's regrettable absence, would have preferred a certain retired senator to be chosen for that honor. 'Lee', the liaison Manning had replaced in 1984, had almost been as close to Hellboy as Trevor Broom had been.

Unfortunately, Hellboy's 'uncle' had been too unwell to attend the ceremony, having been very elderly by the time of the wedding. Manning, rather than feeling that Liz's choice of him was as a last option, had been flattered she would even consider him.

He had already ingratiated himself with Hellboy and Liz right after Christmas of 2004, by overhauling, at his own expense, the fire retardant systems in Hellboy's cement room—so that Hellboy's favorite pyrokinetic could more easily share it. Consequently, when Liz had mentioned her choice of Manning to give her away, Hellboy had been willing to go along with it.

Reluctantly dragging his thoughts back to his less than interesting present, Manning opened a folder marked **'URGENT'** and returned to his neglected labors.

* * *

Just recently turned forty years old, Elizabeth Sherman was still the same petite size she had been ten years before. She decided to wear to the party the dress that she had worn the day of her wedding. Kate Corrigan, who was further past her sixtieth birthday than she liked to recall, was also able to wear the same dress she had worn that day; chiefly by the means of a very rigorous diet designed to quickly erase some unwanted pounds.

As the two women went to get their hair done for the party, both recalled the day more than ten years before when they had gone shopping together for these dresses. They ended up purchasing their dresses at a wedding clothing warehouse in upstate New York that had very reasonable prices and carried all sizes in stock.

_"I know Red truly believes that I should wear nothing but pure white," Liz groaned, as she looked in the mirror at the dress she was trying on, "but with my complexion I look like a bride of Dracula." Kate had been hard pressed not to laugh too hard at this accurate statement; with her pale skin and long dark hair, Liz did look more like she was wearing a shroud than a beautiful wedding dress. _

_Becoming more and more frustrated as the day wore on, Liz eventually tried on a dress in ivory satin and it was obvious that the color enhanced her complexion immensely. Yet, Liz and Hellboy were having an intimate ceremony with only a very small group in attendance. This elegant, floor-length gown was not at all the simple style Liz had been wishing for. _

_She was more than relieved when Kate managed to discover the perfect dress, hanging out of place in the section of the warehouse that held the bridesmaid's dresses. Ankle-length, with a scooped neck and three-quarter sleeves, this dress had an ivory-satin under-dress covered by matching ivory lace. _

_The store attendant, as she marked where the dress needed to be taken in to accommodate Liz's small frame, marveled at how such an unadorned dress could look so elegant. She then helped her to select the best shoes to go with the dress and a simple matching seed-pearl headpiece. _

_Then it was Kate's turn to try to find an appropriate dress. After looking at some of the more traditional bridesmaid's dresses on the warehouse racks, a beautiful aquamarine gown caught her eye. It was meant for a mother of the bride, but the style suited her and it was also ankle-length. _

_Kate looked lovely in the dress and it needed no adjustments, but the attendant pointed out that the dress wasn't exactly typical for a maid of honor. "Certainly, the other women in the wedding party might not care for this more mature style," she said in conclusion. _

_"It's a very small wedding and Kate's my only attendant," Liz said with a smile. "Besides, it matches the best man's eyes," she added with a little wink at Kate. _

Liz was perfectly calm the night before the anniversary party; but Hellboy lay awake, overwhelmed by vivid memories of the day of their wedding. It was the day he had married the most beautiful woman in the world, completely aware of how lovely she looked in the dress he was seeing for the first time; and equally aware that he would gladly marry her even if she was wearing nothing but sackcloth.

There had been a time, some years before Liz first came to the Bureau, when Hellboy was convinced he was in love with long-time friend, Kate Corrigan. But he eventually came to learn something that Kate had always known; he wasn't truly 'in love' with her, no matter how intense their feelings for each other were or how good the sex had been.

Yet, in some ways, Hellboy had never loved Kate Corrigan more than the day he was married to Liz. As he watched Kate stand as Liz's maid of honor, Kate had never looked more beautiful to him and he was glad that the two women he cared for most in the entire world had become such good friends.

Regardless of these pleasant memories, there was something else niggling at the back of his mind; like a memory hovering just on the edge of recall. He had this weird feeling that something very unpleasant was going to occur at the upcoming party. It was this that was keeping him awake.

He placed the feeling down to nerves; after all, they had never really had a party like this before. Pulling his mind back to memories of the best day of his life, Hellboy rolled over and finally fell asleep.

* * *

The Manhattan steakhouse Hellboy had chosen for the anniversary party held a great personal significance for him. In 1978, Trevor Broom had managed to arrange a Halloween costume party for his adopted son in that restaurant. It was the first and, for a very long time, the only party of this nature Hellboy had ever been able to attend.

That particular evening in 1978 ended up being one of the most momentous events of Hellboy's life; having been both the catalyst for his romantic relationship with Kate Corrigan and the development of his great friendship with Walter Carlton and his daughter, Mindy. After Hellboy and Liz became better acquainted in the late 1990s, he informed her of the extraordinary outcome of that Halloween party; ending up with him saving Kate and Mindy from a giant demonic rat in December of 1978.

In 1979, Walter Carlton invested the money to purchase the steakhouse, making Mindy his partner. Hellboy occasionally ran away from the Bureau for a visit; years later, he also brought Liz with him. After the life-changing events of November of 2004, the FBI started to let Hellboy have more freedom in his personal life. He and Liz began to see more of Walter and Mindy, who tried to fill the gap left in their lives by Trevor Broom's death. Hellboy and Liz could think of no other restaurant than Walt and Mindy's where they would want to celebrate such a special anniversary.

Like Liz and Kate, both Hellboy and Abe were dressed in the same custom-made clothing they had worn for the wedding. Hellboy's tuxedo was dark black. Abe's was a charcoal gray that not only complimented the fish-man's blue-green coloring, but also blended well with Kate's aquamarine gown.

By the time the party had started, Hellboy had completely forgotten his anxiety of the night before. He had never enjoyed himself more; neither at that Halloween party in 1978, nor at his and Liz's wedding reception exactly ten years before this evening. Even though he had been enjoying a completely legal existence for years, he finally felt he could really relax in public and just be himself.

The dance band the FBI had arranged for the affair was very good. After a few dances with Kate and his other female friends and many dances with Liz, Hellboy was very thirsty.

As he wandered over to the bar to fetch himself a mug of beer and Liz some white wine, Tom Manning came over to him. "Hellboy, I hope you don't mind, but I've brought someone to the party that I think you and Liz should meet. The FBI's finally appointed a new special operations director who will be taking over my duties on that end and I thought now would be a great time to introduce you."

Taking a sip of his beer, Hellboy shrugged, "Kinda funny time to be meeting someone new, Manning."

"Not that new, Red," said an unexpected, but strangely familiar voice.

Hellboy turned away from a now grinning Manning, to find FBI Agent John Myers standing behind him; grinning even more broadly. Choking in surprise on the beer he had just swallowed, Hellboy set the drinks he had been carrying down on a nearby table and used his left hand to vigorously shake the hand that Myers had extended towards him.

"God, squirt, we haven't seen you since before Liz and I got married. Just a few letters now and then. All we knew was that after the FBI pulled you off that BPRD assignment in England they had you teaching some 'special' courses at Quantico. It's good to have you back where you belong."

Hellboy grabbed up the drinks again and led Myers over to meet Liz, who had been standing and talking to Kate Corrigan, Abe Sapien, and a few other friends on the other side of the restaurant. Wondering what all the commotion had been about, Liz had just turned away from the others when she noticed who it was that was accompanying Hellboy and Manning across the room.

Smiling, Liz went to meet them; throwing her arms around Myers, she drew him into a long, tight hug. Ten years earlier, that might have driven Hellboy insanely jealous; but things had changed since then. Hellboy now knew that Liz loved him as much as he loved her. A friendship with John Myers was no longer looked upon as a threat.

"John, it's been so long; too long," Liz finally managed to say, "I know the FBI didn't give you too much of a choice, but I hope we'll see a lot more of you from now on."

"Plenty more," Myers laughed, "but you might get real sick of me real quick. As we are all aware, being Director of Special Operations and the BPRD liaison to the FBI is often a thankless position."

Hellboy gave Myers's shoulder a playful punch with his right hand, "Can't be any worse than the jerk that used to have that job, Scout. Right, Manning?"

Hellboy had turned his head toward the now former liaison. Manning was laughing at the friendly jibe and trying to think of a good counter-insult. Kate and Abe, who were now standing arm-in-arm, grinned at the well-known banter between Hellboy and Manning.

Hours later, Hellboy could only wonder how anything so fun as this party could fall apart so quickly.

Just as Liz was laughing at the exchange between Hellboy and Manning, wondering what Manning's comeback would be, she caught part of a whispered conversation between two waitresses.

_"That guy who just turned up," _one of them was saying, _"I heard someone say he once was interested in this Liz Sherman, but she chose that big, red guy instead of him." _

_"I don't get it,"_ said the other waitress, _"both Liz and her friend Kate are really good looking women; either one of them could have any man she wants. Why throw themselves away on these freaks?" _

Hellboy had very sharp hearing; even in the midst of laughing at the wisecrack Manning had just directed towards him, he had caught the whispered comments of the waitresses. He swung around just in time to see a sobbing Liz take off into the women's restroom with Kate following after her.

To say that Hellboy felt mere anger would be an enormous understatement. His tuxedo abruptly felt about two sizes too small as he stormed over to confront one of the waitresses, who was only just then realizing that she and her currently nowhere-to-be-found friend had been overheard.

"You made my Lizzie cry," Hellboy growled at the waitress, "How could you do that?" He shook off the calming hands of Abe Sapien, Tom Manning, and John Myers. Ominously lashing his tail, he moved even closer to the object of his wrath, tightly clenching and then unclenching his huge right hand.

The now trembling waitress shrank back from Hellboy's furious onslaught, "Please, I… I didn't mean… Please, don't hurt me." To her amazement, all of the anger abruptly drained out of Hellboy's face, leaving his expression looking curiously bereft. He moved back a pace, holding up his left hand.

"I don't hurt people. My father didn't raise me like that." He looked around at all of his friends and the restaurant wait staff who were now staring at him and the waitress.

"Air, I need some air; excuse me." Hellboy turned and hurried out of the rear exit of the restaurant.

_More to come … _

**_Note_**_: Liz's wedding dress is based on my own, which was purchased in a wedding clothing warehouse in Titusville, Pa. I just transplanted the action to New York. I remember trying on white wedding dresses that made me look like death warmed over. I figured that if I looked so much better in ivory, then Liz with her even darker hair and more pale skin tone would look better in ivory as well. _

_Of course, my mother would have preferred virginal white; but after all, it was my wedding and I just loved the ivory dress that I found and it only cost $95. The photographer assured my mother that an ivory dress would look white in my wedding pictures. I carried a beautiful bouquet of white roses._

**_Author's apology_**_: Sorry for the long delay. On top of a major writer's block (too many ideas battling to get in the story), I had a big choral concert to prepare, and managed to catch a bad cold (of course right before the major concert). Despite my cold, the concert was a big success and I finally figured out what I wanted to do with this update. Sometimes I find that writing some little Hellboy fics helps to snap me out of a writer's block on this story, hence the other fics posted recently. Thanks to all who have been reviewing and also for your kind patience in waiting for an update._


	44. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 5

**Author's note: **In order to best understand this, please read all of the previous parts of Chapter Six if you haven't already done so.

**Disclaimer: **Main characters not mine, but Walt, Mindy, and Mindy's son, Trevor, belong to me. Some of what I have written is based on my loose adaptation of a flashback of Liz's first meeting with H.B. that is narrated in Mike Mignola's Hellboy spin-off: B.P.R.D.: Hollow Earth. The agents, who are merely functional to my plot in this chapter, derive from this; but I have placed my own spin on them.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love **

_**Interlude **_

_**December 22-23, 1986 **_

_Right in the middle of a late-night re-broadcast of his favorite episode of Hawaii Five-O, Hellboy was irritated by the arrival of fish-man Abe Sapien to inform him that Trevor Broom needed to see him in his office immediately. At first considering taking the time to slap a tape into one of his VHS machines to catch the rest of the episode, Hellboy decided to forget it and went to find out why he was needed. _

_Two hours later, a disgruntled demon found himself on one of the Bureau's converted military cargo planes departing from Newark to the BPRD adjunct facility in Chicago, Illinois. He had no information as to why he was bound for the 'Windy City'. All he knew was that Trevor Broom was unavailable to accompany him due to an unexpected 'personal emergency' that was going to take him to his home country of England; and no one knew how soon he was expected to return. _

_Hellboy tried vainly to convince himself that he was upset because he missed hearing Jack Lord's 'Steve McGarret' character intone his traditional "Book 'em, Danno" at the end of the program he had been watching; but he knew this was not the real reason for his current dissatisfaction. _

_By the time Hellboy would be arriving to the Chicago facility, it would be his forty-second birthday. Not only would Trevor Broom be missing this, he would probably be away past Christmas as well. Hellboy was more upset by this than he cared to admit. The only time they had not been together in late December had been for Hellboy's twelfth birthday, when Hellboy had been in Argentina fighting the Nazis; and unable to make it back home to Boston until the end of the year. _

_It must have been something very important to draw Trevor Broom out of his adopted country at such a personally significant time. Hellboy understood this; but it didn't make him feel any better about it. _

* * *

_Outside of his immediate circle of family and close friends, Hellboy seldom reminded others of the day of his odd 'birth'. When he finally arrived to the secret location in Chicago where the Bureau maintained a mid-Western field office, no one there was quite sure what he was so ticked off about. _

_Puffing away on a stubby cigar clenched tightly in his teeth, Hellboy peered through the two-way mirror at a girl; one who had the saddest-looking brown eyes he had ever seen. She was locked away in a tiny, sterile-white room that had obviously been fireproofed. Seated on a kind of hospital bed, she just sat there staring at her own feet; which Hellboy noted barely touched the floor. _

_After a few long moments of observation, he swung around toward FBI Agent Clayton Reilly. _

_"Look, Clete, I don't get what's going on here. First, you drag me out of my nice warm bed to come all the way to Chicago; then you tell me that we're dealing with the biggest threat to national security since the atomic bomb," Hellboy took another drag on his cigar, "Have to admit, you've got me completely baffled. What's this got to do with that girl you've got locked up in there?" _

_'Clete' Reilly fished around in the pockets of a black jacket that just screamed 'Feds' and, bringing out a filtered cigarette, lit it and smoked for a while before replying, "The girl's the problem, Hellboy." _

_Dropping the butt of his cigar to the scientific research facility's cement floor, Hellboy ground it out with one booted cloven hoof before looking even more closely at the girl. "What in the hell kind of security risk can she be, Clete?" he grumbled, "She's just a little kid." _

_Clete took another slow puff on his cigarette, "Hellboy, this past Saturday, the 'little kid' in that room was the sole survivor of an unexplained firestorm that obliterated an apartment-complex courtyard before burning down an entire block of buildings in one of the seedier areas of downtown Detroit." _

_Hellboy shrugged, "The kid was lucky; so what?" _

_Shaking his head, Clete looked a little less like he was researching an interesting specimen and more like he felt sorry for the girl he held in custody. "Thirty-six people died in that fire on Saturday; including her own parents. This girl, full name Elizabeth Anne Sherman, was found unconscious in the apartment courtyard that had been the nucleus of the explosion. The bodies of several other children, most charred beyond recognition, were found near her in the crater that used to be the courtyard." _

_As Clete spoke, the girl seated on the bed turned her head toward the mirror in the room, almost as if she knew that she was being observed. Hellboy now noticed a small white bandage on her forehead. _

_Clete pointed at the girl with his cigarette. "That tiny bandage on her forehead covers the only wound on her entire body. Examining physicians think that being struck by a small rock or other hard object caused the injury. While it is possible that it was caused by debris from the explosion, other evidence suggests that she was injured just before the explosion occurred. What we can't figure out, Hellboy, is why she wasn't burnt to a cinder like the others; rather than ending up with just a few stitches." _

_Just as Clete was finished speaking, another agent, completely covered in a self-contained fire-suit, entered carrying a tray of food. The agent, with his face-plated head covering and the tank strapped to his back, looked to Hellboy like some extra from an old sci-fi movie. He noticed Hellboy and Clete, but spoke no word as he nervously pulled open the thick fireproof door to Elizabeth Sherman's room. _

_Hellboy couldn't help thinking that the agent bearing the tray acted like a sheep going to slaughter. As he apprehensively entered the room, the girl stood up from the bed and started towards him—which action caused the tray-bearing spaceman to fearfully freeze in place. _

_"Please, why won't you talk to me?" Hellboy heard her say quietly, "They say I did something bad. They say I burned lots of people to death, but I don't remember doing it. Now, no one will talk to me. Why won't anyone talk to me?" She gradually moved even closer to the petrified fire-suited agent, who still held her food tray. "Why are you so scared? I can't burn you just by talking, can I?" _

_As she spoke, she reached out her hand. The panicked agent dropped the tray, scattering chicken, white bread, and a little carton of milk; and dashed out of the room as if his life depended on it. _

_"You get to bring in her next meal," the suited agent said to Clete; before he walked out of the area as quickly as he could without appearing to Hellboy as if he was running away. _

_Digging around in the pouches of his belt, Hellboy pulled out what looked to Clete like an already partially smoked cigar and lit it with one of his ubiquitous Zippos. Clete had met Hellboy several times in the past on other Western and mid-Western centered missions. He never recalled having seen the cigar-smoking demon with anything that looked even close to a full-length, brand-new cigar. _

_Hellboy turned toward Clete. "You guys think the girl's an uncontrolled pyrokinetic, don't you?" _

_"We're definitely considering the idea," Clete said, as he lit another cigarette, "As of yet, we haven't been able to pinpoint where she's getting the power from; but pyrokinesis is the only explanation that fits all of the facts. We have been working overtime to collect information on her. She's an only child, usually called Liz or Lizzie. The parents divorced several years ago. But when they had been married, they moved around a lot. Ostensibly, this was because of the father's job; but we have discovered rumors of small, unexplained fires in other cities where they lived. The father did not live in Detroit, but was with the mother on the day of the fire because it had been the girl's birthday the day before." _

_Smoking in silence for a few minutes, Hellboy digested this information. He then moved closer to the two-way mirror and observed that the food and tray were still on the floor. 'Lizzie', having moved back to sitting on the bed, was now clutching the pillow to herself and quietly sobbing into it. _

_Hellboy liked to think of himself as cynical and unsentimental; having been, in his own estimation, completely hardened by decades of dealing with inhuman Nazis, mad scientists, monstrous demons, and other paranormal interlopers. Yet, nothing turned him into mush faster than watching a child cry. He was no more immune to this heart-rending scene than he had been at age fourteen, when he comforted a grieving eight-year-old Katie Corrigan after the death of her father. _

_Making his slow way past various machines, computers, and other research paraphernalia, he came to the door into the girl's room. Grinding out his cigar against its fireproof exterior, Hellboy reached down and turned the knob to pull open the door. _

_Clete, who had been busy examining readouts on several of the machines, gradually came to notice what Hellboy was doing. "Hey, you can't go in there," he objected, "You're just here for a consultation and don't have clearance for contact. Anyways, you've got to have a fire-suit to enter." _

_Turning away from the already partially opened door, Hellboy looked over his shoulder at Clete. _

_"Me need a fire-suit?" he grunted, "You're kidding, right?" _

_Attempting to school his naturally rather grim features into something non-threatening looking, Hellboy smiled as he slowly pushed open the door. "Knock, knock, Lizzie; mind if I come in?" _

_If 'Lizzie' Sherman was frightened by the unexpected advent of a bright red, seven-foot-tall demon, she didn't show it. She merely peered over the top of the pillow she was hugging to herself; eyes still filled with as-of-yet unshed tears. _

_"You talked to me," she whispered, after a long pregnant moment of silence. _

_"Shouldn't I?" Hellboy said, as he came and sat at the foot of her bed. _

_One lone tear slid down a thin, pale cheek. "Aren't you afraid that I'll burn you?" _

_"Nope," said Hellboy with a broader smile, as he handed 'Lizzie' a Baby Ruth candy bar that he had just pulled out from one of the pouches of his belt. _

**Part Five**

All Hellboy had wanted was to escape the negative emotions provoked by the rude behavior of the waitresses at the anniversary party. What he had ended up with was a memory of his first meeting with 'his Lizzie' which had been so all absorbing as to almost feel like he had been reliving it.

When his awareness finally returned to the present, he found himself seated on a weather-beaten bench in a Broadway bus shelter near Cathedral Parkway. He didn't even know how long he had been sitting there; only just barely recalling how his unexpected arrival had startled late-night commuters, who had nervously shifted several blocks along Broadway to the next stop on the line.

Along with this restored awareness, came the memory of why he was sitting there in the first place. Even though Hellboy had never been happier since his marriage to Liz, he again found himself plagued by an uncertainty he thought he had banished long ago. He loved Liz with every fiber of his being; but was she truly better off with him rather than with John Myers or some other 'normal' human male?

"Why don't you move over so someone else can sit down?" Hellboy turned to find that Liz was now standing under the aluminum and acrylic shelter that his bench was a part of. Looking up into her gently smiling face, he could see in her dark-brown eyes all that was in her heart and knew that she loved him as much as he loved her. Once more, he chased away those troublesome self-doubts.

"Believe me, you wouldn't want to sit here in that pretty frock of yours," he said with a chuckle as he gathered his wife of ten years into his lap; trying as much as possible not to let her ivory dress come into contact with the urban grime that could be found on even the most well-tended of public benches.

The night air was chilly, but the sky was very clear. Curling up into the warmth of Hellboy's embrace, Liz laid her head on his chest; reminded of their first moments alone after their wedding reception, when they had climbed up to the BPRD entranceway roof to admire the beauty of an almost full moon. That night had also been chilly; but now, just as she had ten years before, Liz felt warm and protected in the loving arms of her husband.

Liz heard the rumble of a sigh echo through Hellboy's chest. Bending his head down, he kissed the top of her head and drew her closer. "Liz, I know this is something we never talk about; but do you remember the time I first met you?"

"It's hard to say, Red," Liz said so quietly that he almost couldn't hear her, "I definitely remember Trevor rescuing me from the streets of Portland, Oregon when I was seventeen and I came to live with you all in Newark for the first time. And I know from what Trevor was able to let me read in the files the FBI holds on me that you were in Chicago just a few days after…" she stopped, unable to go on; finding the guilt for that inferno, which she only remembered in her nightmares, still too hard to bear.

Hellboy kissed the top of her head again. "Aw, sorry, Lizzie; shouldn't have opened my big mouth."

Lifting her head, Liz smiled up at him. "Don't be sorry, H.B. Meeting you was the only good thing that came out of that horrible time, even though I can just barely remember you giving me chocolate and then holding me while I wept and wept. The FBI tried to wipe my memory; but deep in my heart, I could never truly forget my big, red guardian angel. Once I found you again, I can never forgive myself for all of the times I ran away from you; searching for some mythical 'normal' human life."

Pulling Hellboy's head down into a passionate kiss, Liz completely drove out of his suddenly rattled brain any possible reply to all of this. In spite of their rather exposed location, Hellboy and Liz were driven wild by an overwhelming desire for each other; both reminded of the first time they had made love in front of the fireplace on the floor of the library after Hellboy's sixtieth birthday party when they had become engaged to be married.

Managing to find the strength to pull away from Liz's caresses, Hellboy lifted her up from the bench, gently setting her back on her feet. "Liz, I don't think Manning would be too keen on us getting arrested for indecent exposure," he laughed, as he helped her straighten out her wedding dress.

Taking Liz's right hand in his left, they slowly walked back to the restaurant. Hellboy was surprised on their return to find that he hadn't been away for much more than twenty minutes; to him, it seemed more like he had been away for an entire lifetime. They walked back in just as Mindy's son, Trevor, was about to fire the two offending waitresses. "It's not just that these 'freaks', as you called them, are very close friends of ours," he was saying, "It's that my grandfather, mother, and I cannot and will not have people working for us who are intolerant of those of our customers who are different."

Liz whispered something into Hellboy's ear; who then approached Trevor Carlton. "Treve, neither one of us wants to see anyone fired over this. The girls were rude; but Liz and I feel we overreacted to it."

The two waitresses fell all over themselves trying to apologize. Hellboy stopped them. "Maybe I was a bit too naïve about how easy it would be to protect Liz from this kind of stuff. I now understand better why my father felt compelled to keep me hidden. It wasn't to keep me as a prisoner; it was the only way he knew to protect me. Unfortunately, I realized that a bit too late. Liz and I got married on March 19th because it's Saint Joseph's Day. He's the patron saint of fathers, but especially of adoptive fathers and we chose that day to remember a great man. My father forgave me so many times for being stupid, I think I can pass the favor along."

Later, when Hellboy and Liz were dancing the last dance before the end of the party, she leaned in and whispered, "I have never regretted the choice I made in Moscow."

"Neither have I," Hellboy whispered back, as he pulled her closer to him.

_More to come…_


	45. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 6

**Author's note: **Thanksgiving ended up as a significant day in the narrative to Hellboy's Family: Chapter Five: Abe Sapien. I can't resist the idea of posting a Thanksgiving narrative for this current 'Liz Sherman' chapter, especially as I have a chance to post it not long after the day itself.

Last year for Thanksgiving I wrote a separate Hellboy story connected to the Hellboy's Family universe entitled Flowers for Mother: A Hellboy Tale of Thanksgiving. What I write below is, in part, connected to that other story. If you haven't read it, you might wish to. It was a personal favorite of mine.

**Disclaimer: **Main characters not mine, but Walter Carlton, his daughter Mindy, and Mindy's son, Trevor, belong to me. Kate Corrigan, who is not a character in the movie, derives from Mike Mignola's original Hellboy comics; but how I use her is basically original to me.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****—_Part Six _**

**(An Intermezzo for Thanksgiving) **

**_Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, Adjunct Facility  
Boston, Massachusetts  
November 27, 2003 (Evening of Thanksgiving Day) _**

Trevor Broom watched sadly as Hellboy listlessly pushed his turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes around on his plate. Earlier, his despondent son had tried as much as possible to look like he was enjoying the meal; mainly, Broom knew, for his own sake more than Hellboy's.

Broom may have been born in England, but had come to enjoy many of the special traditions of his adopted country—Thanksgiving most of all. Every year, Hellboy and Broom had made sure to have a meal like this that they shared with others who were almost as close to them as family; and they had always managed to accomplish this regardless of missions or assignments.

This year, due to ill feelings between them, they almost hadn't made it; Hellboy having made it more than abundantly clear that as a 'prisoner' he didn't want to eat Thanksgiving dinner with his 'jailer'. Yet, an unfortunate event that had occurred on this Thanksgiving, though very sad, had managed to break though this emotional barrier that had long been developing between father and son.

That morning, Hellboy had again found a way to escape his locked room. Broom's anger had been somewhat appeased when he had discovered that Hellboy, with Walter Carlton's help, had gone to Boston to visit with retired nurse, Martha Wilson, a woman who had been as close to him as a mother and whom he had found out was dying from cancer.

When Trevor Broom had arrived to Martha's house in search of his wayward son, he had found that she had passed away just minutes before—almost virtually in Hellboy's arms; and, in spite of Broom's initial irritation, it had broken his heart to see his son's immense grief.

While Broom was thinking all of this, Hellboy looked up from his plate and attempted a tiny little smile. Walter Carlton, who was also participating in this dinner, took another bite of the food on his plate and tried to pretend that he hadn't noticed the increasingly somber mood of the meal.

After stirring his food around for a while, Hellboy took his cold turkey and smushed it together with his stuffing, mashed potatoes, several spoonfuls of gravy, and lots of cranberry sauce; reminding Broom of the Thanksgivings of Hellboy's childhood when that was the only way he would eat turkey.

He then surprised both Broom and Carlton by not only eating all of his food, but also by making conversation on relatively innocuous subjects. It was the most relaxed that he had been with Broom ever since the replacement, earlier in the year, of the lock on his room door with a special electronic lock keyed to a siren.

Hellboy finally placed his fork down. "Father, if you don't mind, I won't wait for the pumpkin pie; never cared for that much, anyway." Getting up from the table, he walked out of the dining room.

Neither Broom nor Carlton was really hungry for dessert. After having a little tea, both retired to the guest quarters in the Boston BPRD facility where they were to spend the night before returning to Newark on the next day. Broom was informed that Hellboy had also retired to the quarters that he had been assigned, which was just next door to his own.

After putting on a clean nightshirt always left in the closet for him, Broom got into bed; but found that he couldn't sleep. The walls of these quarters were not very thick. It wasn't too long before he had heard the door to Hellboy's room open and footsteps retreating down the outer corridor.

Broom shortly gave up the struggle to fall asleep. Getting up, he pulled on the robe and slippers he kept stored in the closet and went to the chapel in the Medical Wing. Sure enough, he found Hellboy seated cross-legged on the floor in front of the altar. His head was dropped down in his huge right hand and he made no indication that he had heard Broom enter; whether he had noticed it or not.

Sitting down on the floor next to Hellboy, Broom touched his shoulder. With a huge sob, Hellboy blindly turned towards Broom, who wrapped his arms around him and laid his head on his chest. Hellboy wept long and hard, his tears eventually soaking through Broom's robe and nightshirt.

"Feel better?" Broom asked, when Hellboy had finally seemed to run out of tears.

"Not really," Hellboy sighed, "You've always asked me to think of at least one thing to feel grateful for on Thanksgiving, but I can't. All I can think of is how much I wish Marty were still here. I could see how much pain she was in, Pop, and I still didn't want her to die. I feel so damn selfish."

Trevor Broom handed Hellboy the handkerchief that he kept in the breast pocket of his nightshirt, "Son, I understand what you are going through. I felt the exactly the same when Grandfather died."

As Hellboy blew his nose, Broom continued speaking, "I spent the greater part of this morning being quite annoyed with you; assuming that you had once again run off to visit Liz. You will never truly appreciate how anxious I became when I came to realize that I had no idea of your whereabouts. Ultimately, I did discover your location; but we could have visited Martha together. Why didn't you come to me when you had found out about her illness; instead of turning to Walter Carlton?"

Hellboy pulled away from Broom and stood up. "I'm sorry, Father; with the way you've kept me locked up recently, I wasn't sure I could trust you to let me come here. I knew I could trust Walt."

Broom, still sitting on the floor, also stood up and moved closer to Hellboy, "I never meant to lose your trust, Son; but, looking back on my actions of this year, I don't blame you for distrusting me."

Backing away slightly, Hellboy shook his head. "Maybe you don't blame me; but I do. I know if you trusted me not to run away, you wouldn't be locking me up like this. I wish I could promise that I will never run away to see Liz again; but I don't want to make you promises I can't keep. I just care for her too much to stay away. Go to bed, Pop; it's going to be a long drive back to Newark tomorrow."

Hellboy went to leave the chapel; but he abruptly stopped on the very threshold. The feeling had swept over him that he couldn't just walk away from his father like that; that if he did, it would be an action he would later regret forever.

To Trevor Broom's surprise, Hellboy turned back and throwing his arms around Broom, hugged him so tightly as to almost squeeze the breath out of his body. They clung to each other for a long time; almost as if they both knew that this Thanksgiving would be the last they would ever spend together.

Broom's memories drifted back to Hellboy's earliest years, when any embrace from Hellboy could be inadvertently painful, almost breaking his ribs. "Son, it's nice to be reminded that there are times when you can love me just a bit too much; but, really, you don't need to squash me to prove it."

Heaving a huge sigh, Hellboy released Broom from his bone-crushing embrace, "I wish I could come right out and say that I love you, Father. I know I'll wait too long and never have a chance to say it; just like what happened when Marty died."

"Believe me, Son, you don't need to say it," Broom laughed, as he stretched and popped some spinal vertebrae back into place. "You were never good hiding your true feelings. I know that you love me; and I'm sure that Martha was also just as certain of your feelings for her."

"I hope you're right, Father," Hellboy went over to the rack of votive candles in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary. Hellboy loved the fact that these were still real candles, rather than the safer electric ones found in most contemporary Catholic churches.

As Broom watched Hellboy light several candles, he knew that there was something very different about him. In his heart he knew that no matter how difficult things became for them in the future, this change was definitely for the better; something truly to be grateful for.

* * *

**_Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense  
Newark, New Jersey  
November 25, 2004 (Evening of Thanksgiving Day) _**

It hadn't started out as a bad day, really. Touch warm for this time of year—a little sun, a little rain. Walt, Mindy, and Treve came this morning, forced the regular Bureau cooks out of the main kitchen, and cooked us the best Thanksgiving dinner the Bureau's seen in a long time.

Funny, I suppose that I should've felt sad during dinner and part of me did. The other part just watched Liz laughing at one of the boy scout's bad jokes and all I felt was lucky. I still can't believe Liz loves me instead of him. But she does and that makes life good; even with Pop gone.

Abe still wasn't able to spend much time out of his medical tank, but he did come for a while and nibble just a little at the food. I swear; all he would talk about was how Katie's going to move back to New York from Pittsburgh in time for New Year's. You'd think he was sweet on her or something.

All in all, it was a good Thanksgiving this year. And just like my father taught me, there's a lot I can find to be grateful for. So, why am I sitting up here on the roof in the drizzle, just kicking my heels?

"Hey, Hellboy; you okay?" Pooh, just the guy I didn't need.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Manning; just needed some air, that's all."

"Well, I just thought that maybe you'd like to talk to someone."

I stood up and turned to face him, "Well, yeah; there is someone I'd like to talk to, but you're not it."

"Oh, you mean like Abe or Liz? Tell me who and I'll get them." Jeez, he's not really such a bad guy; but he can be so dense sometimes.

"Manning, I'm afraid the guy I'd like to talk to isn't around to talk to anymore."

As he stood there, long cigar in hand, it took him a few seconds to figure out which 'guy' I meant. Then, not sure what to say, he moved on to something else. "They're going to serve dessert soon."

"Tell them to go ahead and start without me; don't much care for pumpkin pie."

Manning laughed, "Neither does Liz, it seems. So, Mindy and her son Trevor are making Belgian waffles with vanilla ice cream, hot fudge sauce; the works."

"Really?" My appetite perked up again; there was nothing Liz and I liked better than Mindy's Belgian waffles with hot fudge and the works. "I'll be back in soon; just tell them to give me a few minutes."

After Manning went in, I stood on the roof for a little longer. The drizzle had stopped and the almost full moon peeked through the clouds. As the sky lightened, so did my mood. Sure, I miss my father, but I've gained so much since Liz and I came back from Moscow. The kinds of things I'm sure my father would've approved of; something truly to be grateful for.

**_Author's Afterward_**_: Make sure you've read Parts Four and Five of Chapter Six. Email notification of updates hasn't been working and interested readers may have missed the two parts previous to this one. Sorry, I didn't get the chance to post this closer to Thanksgiving. The ffnet system hasn't been so great recently. _

_More to come for Chapter Six…_


	46. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 7

**Author's note: **I'm not going to keep putting disclaimers on each part. This might not make sense if you haven't read the previous parts to Chapter Six. Also, some time ago I wrote a short Hellboy fic entitled The New Girl. This part of my 'Liz' chapter to Hellboy's Family picks up from that.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****—_Part Seven_**

**_12/22/1992_**

Just before lunchtime, Hellboy had noticed the arrival to the BPRD headquarters in Newark of an adolescent girl who looked vaguely familiar to him. Immediately attracted to her fragile melancholy, he found himself even more intrigued by a sense of underlying strength.

Upon asking Trevor Broom the identity of this attractive young woman, Hellboy reminded him that he had met Elizabeth Sherman six years before at the Chicago BPRD adjunct facility. Broom, who had regrettably been abroad in England at the time, had forgotten of this meeting; which had been purged from all the official FBI documents on Liz.

When the BPRD agents in Chicago had failed to prove to the federal government's satisfaction that the eleven-year-old girl was a pyrokinetic, the FBI erased Liz's memory of her visit to the Chicago facility and her brief meeting with Hellboy. They then released her to the municipal authorities in Detroit, where she had resided when an unexplained block-wide fire left her orphaned in December of 1986.

Upon Trevor Broom's return to the United States early in 1987, Hellboy had made a complete report to him of what little he had learned of Liz Sherman. At that time, Broom had desperately tried to convince the FBI to keep closer tabs on her; but could not convince them of the need. He was more than annoyed with how they merely allowed young Liz to be dumped into the labyrinthine bowels of the Detroit child welfare system.

As the FBI considered his fears unwarranted and Liz was still a minor, Trevor Broom was blocked from following her case on his own. As much as he was still concerned about her, it wasn't long before various duties pushed the memory of her to the back of his mind.

Toward the middle of December of 1992, Trevor Broom went on several long trips. Hellboy noticed these absences; and yet, like usual, he couldn't be bothered asking about it. If he had, he would have found out that Liz unexpectedly came to Broom's attention once again when she had run away from a foster home in one of the suburbs of Detroit; not, Broom soon learned, for the first time.

But this time she crossed state lines; which again brought her to the attention of the FBI, who then contacted Trevor Broom. Due to the routine sealing of juvenile records, it wasn't until this time that Broom had found out about Liz's unfortunate reputation as a runaway risk and suspected fire-setter. She had been shuffled from one foster home to another, never finding a welcome for very long in any; mainly due to the fires that seemed to follow her everywhere she went.

After being reminded of Hellboy's meeting with Liz in 1986, Broom allowed him to look at the records the FBI had just released. It wasn't until reading these records that Hellboy understood just how many exhaustive hours and Bureau resources his father had spent trying to determine the fate of the fugitive girl. For, regardless of how little authority the FBI had allowed Broom to have over Liz's case, he felt completely responsible for her welfare once she again came to his notice.

Trevor Broom finally located Liz living on the streets of Portland, Oregon. Managing to gain the wary adolescent girl's trust, Broom convinced her to return with him to Newark. For the first time she was being offered what appeared to be a sanctuary; a place where hopefully she could obtain training in controlling the 'gift' that had always appeared to her as nothing but a dreaded curse.

It was not long after her arrival to the Newark facility that Hellboy noticed her in a corridor near Broom's office and had inquired into the identity of this strangely familiar-looking girl. He was more than a little disappointed that Broom was not planning on introducing him to her right away.

Knowing that trying to wheedle Broom into changing his mind would only irritate him, Hellboy finally drifted back to his own quarters. He couldn't help feeling that some missing piece of his life had just clicked into place; one that he hadn't even realized was missing.

In fact, at this point, his life had never been better; even in his own eyes. His relationships with Trevor Broom, Abe Sapien, and his FBI colleagues had never been stronger. Even his long-time romance with Kate Corrigan, if still intermittent, had never seemed more satisfying.

Then why did seeing a girl he barely remembered until that day leave him feeling as if his life had just changed forever? Almost having no appetite for his supper, he spent most of the evening and far into the night watching videos of his favorite Charlie Chaplin and Gene Autry movies; finally relaxing enough to fall in to a deep, dreamless slumber.

Several hours later, Hellboy abruptly sat up from a sound sleep. Heart beating wildly, his inner vision was filled with an overpowering impression of cool sapphire-blue flames that rapidly became an apocalyptically bright orange-yellow blaze of destruction. This devastating mental picture was somewhat similar to the Hell-infested nightmares of his childhood, but something felt out of place.

As he began to get his bearings, a realization dawned on him. He wasn't exactly sure how he knew; but he did know. This was not his own nightmare that had just aroused him. Climbing out of the back of the pickup truck he used for a bed, Hellboy quickly pulled on his black leather pants, pushed open the large metal door to his room, and walked out into the corridor.

Noticing a commotion in the section of the facility that contained guest and adjunct facility quarters, Hellboy quickly strode in that direction. As he did so, he became aware of the smell of smoke.

"It's a good thing the Professor thought to fire-proof some of these rooms," one agent was saying to another as Hellboy arrived. "At least right now the fire's contained only to her quarters."

The agent who had been addressed shook his head, "And I thought all this 'firestarter' stuff was just in books and movies; you know, the kind of crap Stephen King dishes up."

"It's real, Walker," the two agents looked up as Hellboy spoke, "Rare, mind you; but it does happen."

He turned toward the first agent he had heard speak, "Boyd, how long has this been going on?"

"Not sure; about ten minutes, maybe. Security sent for us after they received a silent alarm from inside her room, but we can't get in. Agent Shale's gone to get the Professor."

Just then, a rather disheveled looking Trevor Broom arrived. "I feared something like this, but she seemed so calm earlier. Even though I tried not to delve too deeply into what happened when she was eleven, I'm concerned that she may be undergoing some sort of posttraumatic flashback."

"She's having a nightmare," Hellboy grunted. As Broom looked up in slight surprise at his certainty, Hellboy gave a small shrug. "Don't ask me why, Pop; I just know and it's a really bad one."

A security guard arrived, "The sprinkler system in the room is keeping the fire contained, Professor, but it's still not safe for any of you to enter."

Just then, Abe Sapien arrived and was advised of the nature of the alarm. After being informed of Hellboy's belief that the fire was caused by Liz having a nightmare, he moved closer to the door and placed a gloved webbed hand on it. In spite of the fact that the door was fireproof, he definitely could feel the extreme heat contained within.

After a moment of consideration, the psychic fish-man turned toward Hellboy. "I'm not quite sure how you managed to figure it out so quickly, Red; it is a nightmare. I'm afraid that as long as she remains in its throes, the fire will continue to burn and become more and more difficult to contain."

"Well, here goes another pair of these pants," Broom heard Hellboy mutter. "Father, let me go in," Hellboy continued louder, turning toward him, "Fire won't do much to me, you know."

"I know, Son; I know," Broom laid a gently restraining hand on his shoulder. "But I'm afraid you might frighten her even more. It was not clear to me when I interviewed Liz after lunch today that she recalls meeting you when she was eleven. She doesn't appear to recall much from that time period of her life at all." Broom sighed deeply, "I really wish the FBI had heeded my warning when she first came to our attention that there was more to this girl than they could easily discover."

Hellboy shook his head, "Someone's got to try and wake her up, Pop. I know you're afraid that seeing me might make it worse, but I just have to try. I know what it's like to have bad dreams, you know. I hate the idea of Lizzie being all alone in there." The still vivid memory of the disturbing vision that had wakened him earlier made him even more determined to do something, anything to help her.

As Broom and Hellboy had been speaking, even more personnel manned with fire extinguishers and other equipment began to arrive; obviously concerned that the room's sprinkler system, even with the fire-retardant walls and doors, could not contain the flames indefinitely.

Shaking off Trevor Broom's hand from his shoulder, Hellboy moved toward the door to Liz's quarters; even he could sense the heat radiating from it. He stood for a moment contemplating the door.

"Does this door lock from the inside, Pop?" Hellboy asked as both his father and Abe Sapien moved to stand near him.

"No; I thought it unwise to place a possibly unstable 'talent' in a room where we could be locked out. Not that I wish to deny Liz her privacy, but emergencies like this were bound to arise; although I was naïve enough to hope that it would not be tonight."

Reaching down, Hellboy touched the doorknob and then let go of it. He then indicated for everyone, including Abe and Trevor Broom, to back away from the entrance to Liz's quarters.

"This isn't going to be easy," he grumbled, "Someone give me a fire extinguisher; wouldn't want the flames to surge out into the corridor. I'll slam the door behind me when I get in."

Agent Walker handed Hellboy an extinguisher and then backed away from the door. First slowly turning the doorknob to unlatch it, Hellboy then pushed the door open with his stone-like right hand while shooting out fire-retardant foam from the canister in his left. As soon as he had penetrated into Liz's quarters, Hellboy kicked the door back shut with one of his unshod cloven hooves.

Lungs almost overwhelmed by the lack of oxygen in the room, Hellboy blindly penetrated further into the barely-controlled inferno. If it had not been for the water continually pouring from the fire sprinklers in the ceiling, even the reinforced walls and doors would not be able to contain the flames.

Hellboy may have been invulnerable to fire, especially his enormous stone-like right hand; but he was not completely indestructible. He could feel his leather pants burning away completely; and as he raised his huge right hand to protect his face, trying to see in the midst of all of this destruction where Liz might be, he began to wonder why he was endangering himself for a girl he barely knew.

Yet, some feeling deep in his heart drove him further into the room; part of him knew that he would risk even more than death before he would ever abandon this young girl to her fate.

_More to come… _

**_Author's apology:_**_ I meant both to post more and to post sooner, but life and the holidays got in the way. I decided to post this much before going away for New Year's Eve. I hope everyone has a great 2007 and even though I will be posting the rest of this later than I intended, it will still go the direction I originally planned if I had posted right before Christmas._


	47. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 8

**Author's note: **This follows directly after Part Seven. Make sure you've read that. Email alerts were delayed when I posted and you might have missed it. **Reminder: **Liz would be seventeen here.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****—_Part Eight _**

Stifling smoke, searing fire, excruciating pain—all coupled with constant torrents of water from the ceiling fire sprinklers. Unfortunately, the fire extinguisher Hellboy had used to enter Liz's quarters was already completely spent. Determined not to fail in his self-imposed task of awakening Liz from the nightmare manifesting in this scorching reality, he cast aside the spent extinguisher and again forced himself further into her quarters. Every single breath he took was a searing agony.

"Damn!" he growled as he blindly lurched up against the small bed. Now blazing away like all of the other furniture, the bed still seemed less affected by the flames as if having been protected as long as Liz had been lying there. Unfortunately, she was no longer in the bed.

Crouching down and attempting to examine the area around the bed, Hellboy hoped that Liz was lying on the floor somewhere near him. As he did so, it came to his attention that the flames in one corner of the windowless room looked very different from the red-orange blaze that completely engulfed him in spite of the water still cascading from above.

Slower than he would have liked, he groped his way toward that corner with it's bluish-colored fire; stumbling over the blazing remains of the room's furnishings. As he broke through into this weirdly cool-looking conflagration that both surrounded and issued forth from the figure huddled in the corner, the most remarkable feeling washed over him. It was the deep-seated conviction that he, who had never truly felt at home anywhere, had finally found that haven he had been seeking his entire life.

Unlike the blaze currently gutting her quarters, the fire bursting forth from the night-gowned Liz did not burn him as it enveloped him in a brilliant sapphire glow—something that surprised him and, yet, did not surprise him at all. As he knelt down and lifted Liz's comatose body from the floor, a warm contentment began to fill him. Holding her close with his huge stone-like right hand, he stroked her long, dark hair with his normal-sized left one. Whispering comforting nonsense words, he attempted to wake her without startling her too much.

As Liz began to stir, Hellboy's heart skipped a beat. "Wondered when you'd show up," she mumbled, snuggling even closer to his bare, burn-covered chest; as painful as this was, it still felt wonderful to hold her like that. Her statement had surprised him, as his father had earlier indicated that she seemed to recall nothing of their meeting when she had been eleven. Before he had a chance to ask what she meant by that, the blue flames retreated back into her body and she passed out again.

At that same moment, the fire that filled the room also began to ebb and the water still issuing from the sprinklers began to put it out. Hellboy was more than relieved at this development, even though the abrupt withdrawal of Liz's blue fire had left him feeling oddly bereft. He had no real urge to once again force his over-taxed body through a blazing inferno and he was not totally sure if Liz would be immune to harm from the fire when no longer surrounded by a shield of her own flames; even if it was certainly those flames that had caused the fire in the first place.

He was also relieved that Liz was again unconscious as he began to be aware that more than just his chest was now bare. His leather pants having been totally incinerated, the only thing left covering him was a myriad of painful burns. Just as he once had done in a demonic-rat besieged underground chamber in Harlem fourteen years earlier, Hellboy established a mental link with Abe Sapien; something he could rarely achieve except in a true crisis.

After first making certain that he had managed to get through to Abe, Hellboy sat on the floor in the relatively unscathed corner and held Liz closer; attempting to use his own body to shield her both from the water still pouring from above and from the remnants of the now dwindling fire. At least the water from the sprinklers was beginning to soothe his burns, which were even then beginning to heal, as was usual for him.

As far as Hellboy could tell, Liz seemed more asleep than unconscious; but he was still concerned about her and was thankful as he sensed Abe's mind connecting with his own.

_'Red, as soon as the fire dies down a little more, security will enter the room and convey Ms. Sherman to a more secure isolation facility in the Medical Wing. Right now, that is the most destruction-proof location where we can install her.' _

Too exhausted to do much more than broadcast back to Abe his receipt of this mental communication, Hellboy closed his eyes. _'Install,' _he thought to himself, '_Makes her sound like a computer program.'_

Sensing amusement from Abe, Hellboy realized that 'Brother Blue' had picked up this last thought even though he hadn't meant to project it. Attempting to open his eyes again, he found that he could barely move any part of his entire body. This uncharacteristic weakness dismayed him. Still feeling the need to protect the young woman he held in his arms, he struggled to become more alert.

* * *

Awareness slowly returned to Hellboy, as he came to realize that he was in a bed. Finally managing to open his eyes, he found that he was not in his own private quarters but in a room in the Medical Wing. At first, he couldn't recall why he should be sleeping there instead of in his own bed; or why bandages covered him and he felt as if he had been seared like an overcooked side of roast beef. An odd itch in his left arm made him mindful of needles that attached him to lines from two IV bags.

Turning his head with a little difficulty, as some of the quickly healing burns on his neck had stiffened, he saw Trevor Broom fast asleep in an uncomfortable-looking chair near the bed. As he noticed the lines of worry in his father's face, even in repose, the fog in his brain began to clear; bringing back the memory of his desperate forage into the blazing inferno in Liz's quarters. Yet, what had happened after his final mental communication with Abe was almost a total blank.

"Father," he started to say; but nothing much came out except an odd kind of croak.

At this sound, Broom sat up. "Good, you're conscious again." Getting up from the chair, he moved closer to the bed and gently laid the back of his right hand against an un-bandaged portion of Hellboy's left cheek. "Thank God, you don't feel as hot as you did a few hours ago."

Pressing an electric button, Broom slowly eased up the head of Hellboy's bed; helping him to sit up. Fetching a cup from a side table, he filled it with ice from a pitcher of water on the table and used a spoon to place a few slivers of this in Hellboy's mouth. "You were almost totally dehydrated by the time security managed to get into Liz's quarters and aren't up to drinking water yet. We'll have to remain with ice for the time being or we could give you stomach cramps."

After Hellboy gratefully let the ice slide down his dry throat, he grunted something almost inarticulate.

"Please, Son, don't try to speak. Abe and Doctor Franklin took care of your burns and hooked you up to IVs for fluids and nutrition; but as you will probably be able to make little in the way of saliva for a few hours yet, any attempt at speech will be quite difficult."

"Stop that," Hellboy used his left hand to impatiently push away Trevor Broom's offering of another spoonful of ice, "Lizzie, you have to tell me if she's okay." At least, that is what he meant to say; even if what came out sounded little like those words.

Broom smiled, "I don't need to be a mind reader like Abe to figure out what you're so anxious about. Calm down and I'll tell you what I know." Firmly inserting a second spoonful of ice in Hellboy's mouth, he effectively cut off any further efforts to speak.

"Ms. Sherman has been sleeping peacefully ever since we removed her to the isolation facility. Believe me, Son, she's a lot better off than you are right now. If I hadn't been so concerned that the fire would rage out of control, I never would have let you go into that room. Frankly, Ms. Sherman seems to be even more immune to harm from fire than you are."

While his father had been speaking, Hellboy could feel the tension drain out of him. He opened his mouth for another spoonful of the ice; but Trevor Broom shook his head. "Only a little at a time; those were Doctor Franklin's orders."

Again lowering the head of Hellboy's bed, Broom once more seated himself in the chair near the bed. "You should try to get some more sleep. That will help."

As tired as he was, there was something else on Hellboy's mind. ((I'll sleep, if you will,)) he gestured in the sign language they had first communicated in before the young Hellboy had learned to speak.

"I have been sleeping," Broom laughed, "But I have to admit these plastic torture apparatus the Medical Wing insists on calling chairs are not the most comfortable places to do so. I will remove myself to my own bed; but only if you promise to do everything asked of you. We both know that you're not the most compliant of patients."

Hellboy nodded his agreement and Broom smiled as he arose from the chair. "We spoke of spending your birthday tomorrow evening watching some Charlie Chaplin videos. If you feel up to it, we should still be able to do so. By the way, 'tomorrow' is now actually 'today'; happy birthday, Son."

Before he stepped out into the main corridor of the Medical Wing, Hellboy was fast asleep.

* * *

Hellboy wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping, when a slight sound woke him. Opening his eyes, he noticed Abe Sapien changing the IV bags. "Hey," he just managed to grunt.

"Hey, to you too, Sleeping Beauty," Abe replied, as he finished replacing the bags, "I was beginning to wonder when you would deign to grace us with your inimitable presence again. It was a teensy bit alarming to find that you had fainted dead away by the time security managed to get into that room."

"Faint?" growled Hellboy hoarsely, "I don't faint. I didn't get much sleep last night and it took you guys forever to finally show up; so, I just dozed off."

"Dozed off; is that what they call it now?" Abe said with a little grin, "Looked like you fainted to me."

"Liz; how is she, really?" Hellboy asked, wanting as quickly as possible to turn the conversation away from the topic of his 'fainting'. "I know Pop told me she was okay, but maybe he just wanted to keep me from worrying too much."

"After we were finally able to enter Ms. Sherman's quarters and managed to pry her out of your arms while you were, um, 'dozing', she woke briefly, mumbled something incoherent, and then fell asleep until just around an hour ago. She recalls very little of what had happened after she retired to bed last evening, beyond having a bad nightmare and hearing someone speak words of comfort that drove the nightmare away. Physically, she is unharmed; unlike someone else whom I could name."

"Good," Hellboy just managed to get out, his previous laryngitis beginning to return. As Abe patted his shoulder, he once again found his eyes drifting shut.

* * *

At one point, Hellboy woke slightly as he heard voices. Abe and Trevor Broom were speaking with what sounded like a young woman; but Hellboy was still too exhausted to be curious. Not even noticing that the IVs had been removed, he burrowed deeper into the pillow and fell back to sleep.

When he finally began to come awake, he could feel someone holding his left hand. He first assumed that this comforting hand was Trevor Broom's, but it did not feel like his father's usually cool hand. Neither did it feel like Abe Sapien's webbed, even colder, hand. The more that he thought about it, the more this hand definitely felt too warm to be either of theirs.

Turning his head to the left and opening his eyes, he found himself looking at Liz Sherman seated in the chair Trevor Broom had been sitting in earlier. She was wearing one of the blue-striped white robes the Medical Wing issued to patients, looking as if she had showered recently.

"Hi," Liz said, as Hellboy turned toward her. Her eyes were as brown and as sad-looking as he remembered from meeting her in Chicago when she had been eleven.

"Um… hi," Hellboy replied. Removing his hand from hers, he located the controls to the bed and raised himself to a sitting position. He was a little embarrassed at being caught in bed and hoped that the white sheet covering him adequately concealed that he was wearing little but bandages.

"Hellboy, Professor Broom tells me that you were the one who came into my quarters last night and woke me from my nightmare. I can't thank you…"

"It was nothing," Hellboy interrupted; voice still slightly hoarse, but much stronger than earlier.

"This doesn't look like nothing," Liz said, touching the bandages on the upper part of his left arm.

Hellboy shrugged, "Don't worry about it. Fire doesn't usually do much to me except hurt like, um, heck and I heal really fast."

Liz took his hand again, giving him a little smile; but it never reached her eyes, which still looked so very sad to him. "So Professor Broom said; but it was still a brave thing to do. I just wish I could remember you doing it. I never remember much when these things happen."

Hellboy looked closer at Liz. "Don't you remember saying that you wondered when I'd show up?"

Abruptly pulling her hand away, Liz stared at him and then shook her head. "Why would I say that? I've never met you before. At least, I don't think I did." She clasped her hands tightly together, looking down at them rather than at Hellboy. "But there's these whole chunks of my life that I don't remember at all. And you do sort of remind me a little bit of something I think I dreamt about once." Liz stopped, took a long breath, and looked up at him again. "I think I better stop rambling. I do that when I get nervous."

Hellboy reached out and touched the still rigidly clasped hands. "Look, kid, you don't need to be nervous of me. I'm one of the good guys, you know; even though I don't look much like it."

Liz smiled again; and this time it almost reached her eyes. "You look fine to me, H.B. That's not what I'm nervous about."

She stood up from the chair and started to pace around the small hospital room. "I'm not used to letting people get that close to me anymore; it's just not safe. Professor Broom says that he thinks he can help me and I know I don't need to worry much about you."

She turned to face him again, "But what about the others? I'm sick and tired of spreading death and destruction everywhere I go. Maybe I should just get out of here before something worse happens."

Hellboy wished that he could get up and go to her; but it just wasn't feasible. For one thing, he was still a bit tired out from his ordeal the previous night. For another, he wasn't really wearing anything.

After a brief internal debate over whether to be kindly or blunt, he decided on blunt; and to leave the 'kindly' thing to his father or Abe, who did that better than he did anyway.

"And go where, Lizzie? Back on the streets, where you can be a danger to almost anyone passing by? Back to those shelters and foster homes you keep running away from?"

Liz flopped back into the chair and glared at him for a long moment. "Thanks," she finally growled, "Thanks a million for reminding me that I have no place to go except this weird place. And don't ever call me Lizzie; I hate when people do that."

Hellboy wasn't always the most observant when reading the behavior of others; but he knew when he was being tested. Liz was trying to see how far she could push him before being rejected and he could tell that she was a little surprised when he grinned broadly at her instead of becoming angry.

"Unique; Pop likes to think of this place as unique. And it's not such a bad place to call home, either. I've found that out and so has Abe; maybe you can too."

Liz sighed, "I know what you mean; but I used to have a home before this stuff started, you know. I'm afraid this place doesn't really compare with that."

A bit hurt by this rejection of his overtures, Hellboy tried not to show it. "The Bureau's been the only home I've known for forty-eight years; whether it's been in New Mexico, Boston or here in Newark."

"You're almost fifty years old?" Liz jumped in before Hellboy completed his thought; he almost laughed as the look in her deep brown eyes shifted from petulance to surprise. "You look pretty good for someone that old," she added, as she glanced toward his muscular chest with its white bandages against bright red skin. Blushing, she looked away again.

"Jeez, Liz," this time Hellboy did laugh, "Whether you wanna call it good or bad, I've looked the same since I was fifteen."

"I think I better go now." Liz got up and headed toward the door into the corridor. "I did promise the Professor I wouldn't stay too long."

"Wait," Hellboy sat up further. Liz stopped and turned back to face him.

"Today's my birthday, you know, and my father and I will be watching Charlie Chaplin movies tonight. Would you like to join us?" Hellboy clenched and unclenched his enormous stone hand and his tail, which until now had been obscured by his blanket, nervously squirmed out to fidget back and forth.

Liz moved back toward Hellboy's bed, seeming somewhat mesmerized by the tail. "Maybe I'll do that; if the Professor doesn't mind. I love silent movies myself, especially Chaplin."

"You do?" Hellboy could never get Kate Corrigan or Abe Sapien to show much interest in his favorite silent movie stars. It would be fun to have someone around who loved them as much as he did.

Liz nodded, "Yeah, I do. When I was living on the streets in Portland a lot of us would hang around the Laurelhurst Theater. It's an old movie house that's been chopped down into four screens in order to compete against all those new-style multiplexes. On one of those screens, they show old movies, the kind they don't have to pay much money for. Saw a lot of great movies that way, you know."

"I've got loads of movie videos, if you'd like to see them," Hellboy's tail waved excitedly, "Old movies, new movies; you name it, I've got it. TV shows and cartoons too."

Liz heard a quiet step in the corridor and turned to see Trevor Broom hovering outside the door.

"Here's the Professor. I better go now. You know, H.B., maybe I could start to feel at home here."

Hellboy felt a strange flutter in his heart as Liz said this—but not being quite sure what that flutter meant he ignored it. "See you tonight then?"

"Yeah, I think so." Liz said as Trevor Broom walked in.

_More to come… _

**_Author's afterword: _**Sorry for the delay. I started working on this right after the beginning of the new year, but I went and threw my back out. Sometimes I literally wish I could 'throw out my back' so I can buy a new one. But, unfortunately, I can't; so, I just had to settle for a chiropractor instead. Thank God, he's a good one and I was finally able to get back to typing again. Until recently, I was just able to get through the day at work; but typing at my home computer was literally a big pain.

The Laurelhurst Theater is a real place. What I mentioned in passing above is pretty much historical. It was built in 1923 and was one of the first art deco buildings in Portland, Oregon. During the 70s, 80s, and 90s the outdated theater was left to decay. It was purchased around the year 2000 by the current owners who have restored it to its original splendor, still keeping the four separate screens that were installed in the late 70s.


	48. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 9

**Author's note: **Sorry this update has taken so long. Between choir rehearsals and doctor's appointments, I haven't had much time. **Reminder: **This follows after _Part Eight_, but will eventually be returning to the 2178 time period of _Part One_.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****—_Part Nine_**

That evening, Liz, along with Trevor Broom and Hellboy, was seated on an old leather-covered car seat that Hellboy used for a sofa. They spent most of the time after they had eaten supper together watching Charlie Chaplin short films and eating popcorn, Baby Ruth bars, and drinking Coca-Cola.

Hellboy couldn't help watching Liz's face as she laughed at these classic silent films. In his opinion, she looked so much more relaxed; and he liked how she looked in her black jeans, comfortable-fitting black sweater, and brown-leather sandals. One of Hellboy's pet cats, a coal-back one, had curled up in her lap and she was absent-mindedly stroking it as she watched the film.

After reaching the end of the third of four planned shorts, Broom, who had relaxed to the extent of loosening his tie and taking off his jacket, stood up and stretched as he pulled the jacket back on. "Being closer to eighty than I once was, I'm afraid I don't do well with lack of sleep; which commodity we all were a bit short of last night. I'll leave you two alone to watch the last film."

Hellboy nodded, getting up from the couch to shove open the metal door to his room for his father. Liz arose from the couch as well, "Professor, thank you for making me feel welcome in spite of the chaos I inflicted last night. Should I return for tonight to the facility in the Medical Wing where I was located earlier today?"

"Yes, that is the safest place until we construct more secure quarters for you. Son, please make sure Ms. Sherman finds her way back to the Medical Wing when she is ready. This place is such a maze; it's too easy for new personnel to get lost."

Broom turned toward Liz, drawing her into an unexpected hug. Bending his head, he left a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Sleep well, my dear. Remember we are here to help you. Things may not seem easy; but we will teach you to control this ability and to overcome any difficulties that may arise from it."

Liz laid her cheek against his wool vest. "Thank you," Hellboy barely heard her whisper, "but I'm still worried I might…"

Trevor Broom raised her head so that he could look into her dark eyes; his own light-brown eyes slightly obscured by his wire-rimmed spectacles. "Don't be. I believe the Bureau is quite capable of learning to deal with whatever you might throw at us; it's what we do."

Hellboy, who was always uncomfortable with heightened emotions, turned away to fuss with his VCR as he exchanged the tape in the machine for another. He then looked back toward Trevor Broom and Liz just as Broom finished speaking. "Yeah, Liz, Pop's right. We can help, but you have to trust us."

Nodding, Liz dropped her arms to her side and looked away briefly. After a moment, she looked back up at Broom and Hellboy, who had moved to stand next to his father. "I'll try," she sighed.

Broom smiled, "Good; that's all I ask of you." Touching Liz's cheek briefly with his right hand, he then took up the cane that he had left propped near the door. "Good night, Son; this has certainly turned out to be an interesting birthday celebration."

"Yeah, Pop, it sure has," said Hellboy, as Broom limped through the doorway into the corridor beyond.

Liz watched thoughtfully as Trevor Broom slowly made his way down the long corridor. Her view of him was cut off as Hellboy, using his left hand, grabbed a hold of a large metal bar on the inside of his massive door and dragged it closed. Liz glanced up at him as he did this; an expression on her face that he couldn't quite read.

Beginning to wonder if Liz was nervous of being alone with him, he was about to ask if she wanted to return to her quarters in the Medical Wing rather than watch another Chaplin short; when she seated herself again on his couch. Kicking off her sandals, she tucked her bare feet up under her.

Hellboy sat next to her and picked up the remote control. "No, wait; not yet," Liz said, interrupting him as he was about to start the next film. "Tell me about him; the Professor, I mean," she continued when he had turned toward her, "He seems like such a patient man."

To her surprise, Hellboy burst out laughing. "I'll agree with you there, Liz; but I'm not sure he would. Way back, when I'd just turned six, I did something that really annoyed him. I think that was the first time I ever remember him totally losing his temper with me. After launching into what he would've called an 'outburst', he threw himself into a chair and groaned, 'Oh, good lord, this is what I get for praying for patience.' I wasn't sure what to do; so, I just stood there staring at him."

Hellboy shook his head. "After a while, he looked up and said, 'Son, I'm not by nature a patient man. However, the divine father has ways of teaching us patience, especially those of us who are parents.' After that, he sent me to my room. When he came by a little later for the talk I usually got when I'd done something bad, he was the same quiet, patient guy he always was. I never forgot what he said that day about patience, even though at the time I didn't really understand what was going on."

Liz sighed as Hellboy ceased speaking. "You're very lucky to have someone like that, H.B."

"Don't I know it," he nodded, "There's not many guys who'd know what to do with a six-year-old kid who was already taller than he was; a kid with a huge stone hand he could barely control."

"My own father wasn't that patient," Liz went on, "I know he loved me, but he just didn't know how to deal with my, um, episodes." She looked away, attempting to hide the fact that a few tears were starting to fall. "First I destroyed their marriage; then I destroyed their lives. My parents would have been much better off if I'd never been born."

Reaching out with his left hand, Hellboy turned Liz's face back toward him. "Liz, I know how you feel. I said something kinda like that when I was five years old. Even back then, I could see my father had problems just because he had me. He made it more than clear he would never agree with the idea that he would be better off without me. I'm sure your parents felt the same about you."

"I like how can you be so sure of what my parents felt," Liz snapped, "After all, it's my fault that they're not around to feel something, about me or anything else." Liz pulled away from his hand. "You say you know how I feel. I doubt that, Hellboy; I really do."

"Liz, I didn't …" Hellboy found that he couldn't continue. This unexpected turn in their conversation dismayed him and he was afraid of digging himself into a deeper hole than he was already in.

"No, of course you didn't, H.B. The problem is me; it's always me." As Liz spoke, Hellboy couldn't help but reach out to her. Carefully wrapping his huge right hand around her shoulder, he allowed Liz to bury her face in his chest. The idea of watching another Chaplin film was completely forgotten as she sobbed herself to sleep in his arms.

After she had drifted off, Hellboy first considered carrying her out to her quarters in the Medical Wing. But she seemed to be sleeping so peacefully that he decided to sit there just a little longer.

* * *

_Hellboy slowly awoke from a sleep that he hadn't meant to take. _

_Almost totally disoriented, he found himself lying on the mattress that was set up in the back of his old red pickup truck. In the dim illumination of a few lights, he could see that his many TV sets were now silent and dark and he was completely alone. At first wondering where the sleeping Liz had disappeared to, he then recalled that more than a century had passed since that birthday he watched Charlie Chaplin movies with Trevor Broom and a seventeen-year-old Liz. _

_As all the memories he had been trying to keep at bay since the day that Liz died swept through his mind and heart, he sat up and looked around him. As he did this, a cat unexpectedly jumped into his lap and began to purr, kneading its claws into his leather pants. But unlike the cat that had appeared earlier and metamorphosed into the angelic Malachy, this cat was completely black. _

_Almost without his own volition, Hellboy reached down and started to pet the cat; which stretched into his hand and purred even louder. Closing his eyes as he contentedly stroked the cat, Hellboy found himself beyond wondering where this other cat had come from. _

_Relaxing to the point of almost drifting off once more, he opened his eyes again as he came to realize that the figure in his lap was no longer a cat. To his amazement, it was Liz. She was dressed in the same black jeans and loose sweater as that first evening she had wept herself to sleep in his arms; but she was older, closer in age to the earliest years of their marriage. Filled with an emotion that was beyond words, even beyond love, Hellboy pulled her up into a long, yearningly passionate kiss. _

_Pulling away as that kiss ended, Liz shook her head. "I've been waiting far too long for this, H.B. How could you strive so hard to forget me? It's almost as bad as not being loved at all; as bad as lying in that hospice knowing that you couldn't bear to see me, even the few times you came to visit." _

_Burying his face in her hair, he sobbed, as he hadn't done since the day Death snatched her away. _

_"I'm sorry, Lizzie," he finally gasped, "I can't; I just can't." _

_Liz laid her head on his chest, "You'll have to, H.B., or you'll never be able to move on." _

_"I don't want to move on, Liz; not without you," he held her closer, wishing that she could just let him delight in her unexpected presence; instead of asking for something that he couldn't find in himself. _

_Liz raised her head again. Still dressed exactly the same, she now looked as elderly as she did before entering the hospice where she passed away of the disease that insisted on separating them forever. And yet, Liz, no matter how old she appeared, looked as beautiful in his eyes as she had on the morning of their wedding. As he tenderly stroked her snow-white hair, she kissed his cheek. _

_"Oh, H.B., you never deal well with grief," she almost laughed. _

_"No, I don't," he agreed, "but, at least, I did have you, Abe, and everyone else to help me back then; back when Pop was murdered. Then when you were gone, all I really had left was Abe and he tried to help me; but I just couldn't deal with it. Now he's gone too and I don't have anyone left." _

_"You need to let people get close to you again, H.B. If you don't, you'll be nothing more than an empty shell of the man I once loved; the man I still love. Do you think I stopped loving you just because my heart stopped beating?" _

_As Hellboy bent his head down and kissed 'his Lizzie' once again, a single tear rolled down his cheek. "I'm not sure what I think," he said after that second kiss had come to an end, "all I know is that I'm so damn lonely I could scream." _

_Liz slid off his lap and sat next to him on the tailgate end of the truck that had served for so many decades as their marital bed. "Of course you're lonely, H.B. You've been walling yourself up in a Hell of your own creation. Whenever anyone tries to get close, you add another brick to that wall and if you don't knock it down now, you'll be trapped inside forever; then you will truly be lost to me and anyone else who's ever loved you." _

_She laid a hand on his arm. "When you were young, you were there for a man who desperately needed a child of his own to love. When you were a teen, you were there for a girl who needed comfort in her hour of grief. When she was older, you were there when she needed a friend to make love to her. You were there for another unique being when he needed a brother. And then you were there for me, a young adult who was sorely in need of a family and who became an adult woman who needed a man to love her and be loved by her; a man who had no fear of her fire." _

_As Liz was speaking, Hellboy tried to pull away from her; but she turned his face back toward her and forced him to look deep into her eyes. "Don't you remember how rewarding it was when we adopted and raised young children who had special needs that only we could deal with? Can't you see that you still have so much more to offer if only you would allow people to get close to you again?" _

_Hellboy gathered Liz into his arms again. "God, Lizzie, I'm not sure I'm strong enough to do what you're asking of me." _

_"Please try, H.B." Liz looked up into his eyes, lovingly brushing away the tears that insisted on sliding down his cheeks. "Please. If you can't do this for yourself, do it for me; do it for your father; do it for 'your Katie'; do it for Abe. None of us can ever truly be happy when you're this miserable." _

_Hellboy leaned forward and kissed her forehead, before turning away with a huge sigh. _

_"Lizzie, I'm so tired of being hurt. Nothing ever lasts; everyone dies except me." _

_Standing up, Liz pulled Hellboy into her arms. "I had a dreadful fear of my own powers of destruction; what I was really afraid of was myself and my need to love and be loved. You have a fear of the death of those you love; what you're truly afraid of is living life to the fullest. In the midst of life, there is always death, H.B. Yet, in the midst of death there is always the promise of new life to come. Only the person who can't see this is truly dead." _

_Closing his eyes, Hellboy held Liz close to his chest; trying to forever imprint in his memory the very feel of her body in his arms, something he thought he would never experience again. _

_"I'll try," he finally said. _

_"Good; that's all I ask of you." Liz's voice was now faint, as if coming from many miles away. _

_Opening his eyes again, Hellboy found that he was standing alone in an empty room._

* * *

Hellboy slowly awoke from a sleep that he hadn't meant to take. Almost totally disoriented, he found himself sitting on his couch, Liz still fast asleep in his arms. Bits and pieces of a very strange dream rattled around in his head, but he couldn't quite remember what had been so disturbing about it.

Lightly shaking Liz awake, he smiled as she stared around her; almost looking as disoriented as he had just felt himself.

"C'mon kid, we better get you to bed." Hellboy helped Liz up from the couch. He moved to a cabinet near his bath facilities, brought out a clean handkerchief, and handed it to her. "You can't be a guy raised by a British man and not have a drawer full of clean hankies," he said with a grin.

Liz took the handkerchief, dried her still wet eyes, and blew her nose. She then nervously twisted the little square of cambric in her hands, avoiding looking at him. "Guess I ruined your birthday, H.B. You wanted to watch another movie and got stuck with taking care of me instead."

"You needed someone to care, Liz," he grinned as he rescued the handkerchief from her hands before she tore it apart, "and that's more important to me than any movie."

Tentatively, Liz reached out and touched his stone-like right hand. "You look so big and scary, H.B.; but you've been nothing but kind and patient with me."

Hellboy shoved open his huge door to escort her out to the Medical Wing. "I was lucky enough, Liz, to be raised by an impatient man who treated me with nothing but patience and kindness. It's nice to be able to pass that favor along."

_More to come…_


	49. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 10

**Author's note: **Timeline of this is now jumping from the 1992 date of Liz's first arrival to the bureau to 1994. Some of this will be connected to the celebrations of Holy Week (in deference to this past Easter weekend). **Reminder:** Kate Corrigan is from the original Mignola Hellboy comics.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****—_Part Ten_**

**_3/29/1994  
BPRD Headquarters, Newark, New Jersey—Late Tuesday Evening_**

Hellboy vainly tried to sleep, but just couldn't manage it. This wasn't the first time that Liz Sherman had quit working for the Bureau after one of her 'incidents'; that had already happened three or four times in the past year. However, this was the first time that she had packed up with no warning, leaving them little idea of where she had gone.

Hellboy finally sat up, making the shocks on his old red pickup truck creak. A muffled groan came from Kate Corrigan, who had been asleep next to him on the mattress in the back of the truck.

"Hellboy, I've only just gotten back from a six month trip to Czechoslovakia and would appreciate a little more sleep. This is the second night in a row. Want to tell me what's wrong?"

With an expert heave of his finally muscled body, Hellboy rolled up over the wooden slats on his side of the old truck. He changed out of the shorts he was wearing into his usual leather pants.

"Nothing's wrong, Katie. Go back to sleep," Hellboy grunted, as he negotiated his huge right hand into a sleeve on a black t-shirt and then pulled it on over his head. "I just need a smoke."

Grabbing up a handful of his stubby cigars and one of the lighters from his table, Hellboy pushed them into the BPRD-logoed breast pocket of his shirt. Shoving open the metal door to his room, he pushed it back closed after he walked out. As he had left it slightly ajar, Kate could hear the odd sound of unshod cloven hooves as Hellboy walked away down the corridor.

Kate found it hard to go back to sleep, only partly due to the light from the outer corridor penetrating in through the not completely closed door. For the past almost sixteen years, she and Hellboy had developed a perfectly satisfying, if intermittent, relationship. He had initially been more than excited when she finally arrived to the Bureau after her long absence in Europe.

At first, things between them had never seemed better and the sex had been great; but Kate could tell that something was bothering Hellboy and was certain it had to do with the missing Liz Sherman. She had only met Liz a few times in the past; but it wasn't hard for Kate to see that Hellboy was beginning to have a more-than-brotherly interest in the younger woman—even if she wasn't quite sure if Hellboy had noticed this for himself.

Realizing that sleep was now far from her, Kate got up. Pulling on a bright red robe that Hellboy had once given her as a gift and a pair of warm slippers, she went to where she knew she could find him. As she pushed open the fire door that led onto the entranceway roof, the first thing she noticed was the smell of cigar smoke. The night was overcast; in the darkness, she could just make out his silhouette as he sat on the edge of the roof staring out into the dark night.

It hadn't been terribly cold that day, but neither had it been warm. Earlier that evening, there had been a light rain mixed, at times, with a little snow. It left the night air cold and damp. Pulling her robe tighter, Kate stepped up behind Hellboy.

"We need to talk, Hellboy, but I can't do it here; the weather's too unpleasant," Kate started to say, feeling that more than just the weather was unpleasant right then.

"I don't need to talk," Hellboy broke in, "So, why don't you just go in and let me be?"

Kate sighed, "I'm going to go and sit in the chapel for a while. If you don't stay out here too long, come and find me there. I really do need to speak with you."

As Kate turned back toward the fire door, Hellboy ground out the stub of the cigar he had been smoking and stood up. "Wait, Katie, I'll go in with you."

Kate had let her dark-blonde hair grow longer while she had been in Czechoslovakia. It reminded Hellboy so much of how she had looked that December back in 1978 when he, along with Abe Sapien, had rescued her from a giant demonic rat. Smiling wistfully, Hellboy reached down with his left hand and gently brushed her sleep-mussed hair back from her face.

"Aw, jeez, Katie, your hair's all wet. Let's forget about the chapel and I'll build a fire in Pop's office; might even spring for a pot of hot chocolate."

"Sounds like a plan to me," she replied with an answering smile.

At the rear of Trevor Broom's office, there was a series of leather couches and comfortable chairs that were placed close to that side of the fireplace in the center of the office. Kate found herself curled up next to Hellboy on one of these couches, silently nursing her mug of hot chocolate. After having insisted that he speak with her, she was finding it hard to say what she knew she needed to say.

Taking another sip of her hot chocolate, she took a deep breath. "Hellboy, I've been offered a really great special assignment by the University of Pittsburgh. The whole idea intrigues me that they're actually willing to finance research on there being goblins and ghouls infesting abandoned coalmines. I know it'll mean being away from NYU for some years, but it's too good an opportunity to pass up."

"How soon will you be leaving?" Hellboy took another drink from his hot chocolate, trying not to show the confused emotions her news was stirring up.

Kate shrugged, "This is an open invitation that I've been considering for a long time. I don't need to bring much with me as I'm being offered a furnished apartment on campus. Since I'm in between research assignments at NYU, now would be a good time to go, especially given that both NYU and Pitt have slowed down for the coming of Passover and Easter. So, I'm going back to my apartment early tomorrow morning to pack what I need to bring. I'd like to catch a late afternoon flight."

Hellboy couldn't figure out how he felt about this. On the one hand, he was used to Kate not always being around; but on the other hand, she was usually away for only a few months, not a few years. Yet, even though he found the news disturbing, for some reason he couldn't quite fathom, he almost felt oddly relieved that she wanted to leave New York; wanted to leave him.

With little warning, red-hot anger was the emotion that swam to the surface of the current jumble that Hellboy was feeling. Kate's head snapped up as his mug of hot chocolate crashed into the round fireplace spewing its contents over the raised hearth.

"And you were planning on telling me this when, Kate?" Hellboy growled, "Was I supposed to just wake up tomorrow and find you gone?"

"Of course not," Kate sighed, as she got up and retrieved the remnants of a mug she had once brought Hellboy from London. "I hadn't completely made up my mind until just now," she said, tossing the broken mug into a nearby waste can and using some napkins to wipe up the spilled liquid.

She sat back down on the couch and gently turned Hellboy's averted face back toward hers.

"Hellboy, I've been a consultant for the Bureau since the mid-eighties and a professor at NYU for even longer than that; but NYU is willing to grant me a temporary hiatus from my duties and Abe is more than capable of taking over a good portion of the research I've been doing here. I think it's time for me to move on, both professionally and personally."

Hellboy wasn't quite sure what further things he was planning to say, when the usual raucous alarm went off announcing another paranormal crisis that needed taken care of.

He got up from the couch. "Will you be here when I get back?" he asked, finding himself anxious over what the answer to this might be.

"No," Kate replied, still sitting and looking at the floor, "I don't think I could go through this again."

Hellboy turned away without a word; agitation obvious in the unconscious thrashing of his tail. Stalking toward the front of the office to depart for the briefing room, he hadn't realized that Kate had gotten up and hurried after him.

"Hellboy, wait," Kate gently touched his shoulder just before he walked out, "Let's not part like this."

Stopping short, he shook her hand off his shoulder. Kate really thought he was going to continue on; but he surprised her by turning back, gathering her tightly into his arms. "You know, Katie " he said with a little laugh, "I never could stay angry with you for very long." He bent down and gave her a deep, lingering kiss; and then buried his face in her hair for a long time.

"Funny thing," he mumbled when he finally lifted his head again, "Your hair still smells like peaches."

Kate grinned up at him. "I stopped using that shampoo years ago, Hellboy. The stuff I'm using now is supposed to smell like apricots."

"Peaches, apricots; guess it all smells the same to me." Hellboy bent down and kissed her cheek, "Have a good life, Katie; you're making the right decision, you know. I've always thought that hanging around me too much wasn't really the best thing for you."

Letting go of Kate, Hellboy turned and pushed open the left-hand golden-oak door to Broom's office. "Take care of yourself," he said as he walked out, not looking back.

Kate stood unmoving as the door swung closed. _'If it's the right decision, why do I feel so damn bad?'_ she thought. Blinking away tears that she refused to let fall, she left the office; making her way to her guest quarters to pack up her belongings. Somehow, the fact that Kate was planning to remove everything that she had left in these quarters over the years of her tenure with the BPRD made her decision seem even more irrevocable.

**_3/30/1994  
Portland, Oregon—Wednesday morning_**

"Trevor's going to kill me when he finds out what I've done, Red," Walter Carlton groaned as he landed a chartered private plane at the Portland-Hillsboro Airport.

"Well, it's too late to worry about that now, Walt," Hellboy replied, as he looked around at the small airport his friend had decided to land at; figuring that it would be more private than one of the area's larger airports. After deplaning, Walter and Hellboy, now buried under a cloak, made their way to pick up the rental car that Walter had already arranged to be delivered to the airport.

As Walter drove Hellboy into downtown Portland, he looked over at the large cloaked figure seated next to him in the front of the car. "Red, are you really sure that Liz has ended up returning here? You tell me that even the FBI and Trevor haven't been able to trace her this time."

"At least some of her training seems to have paid off," Hellboy grunted, "Just not the right stuff." Looking out of the car at the scenery going by, Hellboy sighed, "I just had to look somewhere, Walt."

The twelve hours that Hellboy had allotted for trying to turn up some hint of Liz's current location turned up nothing. Walter Carlton did a lot of the actual legwork while Hellboy waited in the car.

Hellboy had left the Laurelhurst theater for last; hoping against hope that they would turn up something at the location Liz had mentioned to Hellboy as a favorite hang-out when she had been living on the Portland streets in the past. All they discovered was that screen number four, the screen that Liz had mentioned was always showing cheaply priced classic movies, was showing the first Charlie Chaplin talkie, The Great Dictator.

If there was one thing that Hellboy loved, it was the idea of one of his favorite comedians coupled with a film that spoofed the ever-hated Nazis. He talked Walter into letting him stay to see the film; enjoying it so much that he didn't even mind having to sit covered by his cloak. Many of the people who hung out at this theater were homeless or indigent and couldn't have cared less about someone who hid himself like that.

For Hellboy, it was worth it to feel that just for once he was watching a movie in a real theater, munching on hot buttered popcorn, sitting next to a friend—just like other people would do. It almost helped him to forget about Liz—almost, but not quite.

**_3/31/1994  
BPRD Headquarters, Newark, New Jersey  
Thursday of the Catholic Holy Week—Morning _**

Hellboy made his way into the main entrance of the Newark Bureau headquarters; considering what plausible excuse he could give Trevor Broom for his abrupt and lengthy disappearance after the end of Tuesday's late night mission. With an uneasy sense of déjà vu, he noted that rather than the lone guard at the desk at the far end of the palatial lobby there was a whole band of Bureau agents.

As Hellboy walked in, the guard at the desk spoke quietly into his intercom link; but Hellboy couldn't quite pick up what was said. He also noticed that even though the other agents tried to look calm, they were obviously nervous, steadfastly refusing to look him in the face. His gut-wrenching sense of déjà vu increased even further. He knew that something was not right; knew it as surely as if he was reliving some horrible day from a far past life.

Hellboy placed himself on the platform elevator and waited for the guard to send him down into the Bureau's underground facilities. The fact that this was done without the typical banter and conversation made his stomach turn flip-flops the whole way down.

Ignoring the fear that was building up in his gut, Hellboy decided that the unusual reception he had received was related to his going AWOL Tuesday night. Thinking it would be best to face his father's disapproval right then and there, he went directly to Trevor Broom's office. He was surprised upon entering that it was empty. Unless there was some paranormal crisis to deal with, Abe and his father would usually be deep in research by this time of the morning.

"Red, where the **hell** have you been?" Looking up, Hellboy saw his partner Abe Sapien descending down the spiral staircase that was one of the ways into the office from his private quarters.

"I, um, went to visit with Walt and …" Hellboy hesitated; what he was saying wasn't exactly untrue, but somehow he knew this was not the best moment for prevarication, "Walt took me to Portland to look for Liz," he finally admitted.

"Portland to look for Liz," Abe sighed, "I should have known, but my mind was on other things after you had gone missing." Usually Abe kept his ability to project what he was feeling under a tight rein; but this time Hellboy could sense a definite undercurrent of fear and grief. It did not help his sense of inevitable doom when Abe gripped his shoulder, encouraging him to sit in one of the large leather chairs in the office designed for his bulk.

"Hellboy, I've got bad news. That creature we had banished so easily in Rutherford Place Tuesday night was a mere decoy. Just after I realized that I couldn't locate you in the park, another much more powerful demon sprang up out of nowhere. Two agents died almost immediately, but the Professor managed to subdue and banish the entity."

"Good," Hellboy felt like he could breathe again, but his anxiety returned as Abe shook his head.

"I wish I had better news, Red. The Professor isn't a young man; he suffered a massive heart attack right after he cast out that second demon. He was rushed to Beth Israel Hospital, which was the closest Manhattan hospital to Rutherford Place. He's in a coma; even though he's under the care of one of New York's most prominent cardiologists, at this time he isn't expected to survive until Easter."

_More to come…_

**Author's afterword: **Sorry this has take so long to write. Along with rehearsals for two different concerts I have coming up soon, there was also the whirlwind trip to NYC of my niece from Chicago and three of her friends. You can believe I spent weeks whipping my house into shape for a visit that lasted only one night. But it was a nice time.

Rutherford Place is a near a small park in Manhattan. It is also the location of St. George's Episcopal Church, which is the location of one of the choral societies I sing with. Whenever I attend rehearsals, I can see Beth Israel Hospital on the other side of the park.


	50. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 11

**Author's note: **If you haven't read _Part Ten_ please do so before reading this, as this follows directly after. **Reminder**: This is taking place on the Thursday before Easter in 1994.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****—_Part Eleven _**

"The Professor isn't a young man … massive heart attack … coma … he isn't expected to survive…"

Hellboy found it impossible to completely absorb the words Abe Sapien had just spoken; his lungs seemed unable to take in any air whatsoever. Through an increasing buzzing in his ears, he could barely make out Abe's voice speaking to him again.

"Red, you're hyperventilating. Drop your head between your knees and take slow, deep breaths."

Opening eyes he never remembered closing, Hellboy found that he, indeed, had his head between his knees and the huge breakfast Walter Carlton had fed him earlier that morning was threatening to end up all over the carpet. Allowing his eyes to drift closed again, Hellboy felt a cool webbed hand rub the back of his neck and he managed both to catch his breath and to control the churning of his stomach.

Abruptly surging up from the chair he had been sitting in, his tail lashing back and forth like a flag in a hurricane wind, Hellboy grabbed one of Abe's arms with his left hand; his huge stone hand curled up into a tense fist. "My father… I… Oh, God, Blue, they have to let me see him. If they won't, I'll…"

"You'll what?" Abe interjected, "Go there on your own? Get Walt to take you? Look, Red, do me a big favor and calm down instead of ripping my arm off. Things are being taken care of."

"Things?" Hellboy asked as he collapsed back into the chair. "What things?"

Drawing another, smaller leather chair near to Hellboy's chair, Abe sat down. "It seems that the Professor has had several advance directives drawn up enumerating his wishes should he become incapacitated in some way. One such document deals with just such a hospitalization and stipulates that you must be permitted, within reason, to visit with him if you so wish. As soon as everything is arranged you will be taken to see him."

"Tom Manning is actually willing to go along with that?" Hellboy was doubtful of this, considering his decade-long adversarial relationship with the man who had replaced 'Lee' as FBI liaison.

Abe nodded. "I get the impression that Doctor Manning is hesitant to contravene the Professor's express wishes; at least not as long as the Professor is still alive. Though I am certain the FBI is going over the arrangements for getting you to Beth Israel Hospital with a fine-tooth comb. The fact that you took off on your own the other night isn't helping."

"No," Hellboy said in a low voice, "The fact that I took off on my own the other night didn't help at all. If my father dies, it'll be my own goddamn fault. I should've been there when that second demon turned up. Then this wouldn't have happened."

Abe leaned forward and touched Hellboy's shoulder. "This wasn't the type of entity that fists and mere bullets, even your specially designed ones, could have completely dealt with. The Professor is generally more adept than you at dealing with the kinds of entities that need to be subdued and banished through incantations. I doubt your being there would have made that much of a difference. The Professor would probably still have ended up banishing that entity; with much the same result."

Pulling away from Abe, Hellboy got up from his chair. Wandering over to the round fireplace in the center of the office, he threw a log onto the waning fire. He just stood there in silence, watching the fire begin to consume the new log. After a long while, he spoke again. "It doesn't matter if it would've made a difference or not, Blue, I should've been there Tuesday night when that second demon turned up; standing right by my father's side."

Hellboy turned away from the fire, back toward Abe, "Instead of that, I'm off running after a girl who doesn't want to be found; and then, while my father's lying in a coma, I'm enjoying myself watching a stupid movie and eating popcorn."

"Red, I'm sure the Professor …" Abe started to say; but Hellboy cut him off.

"I'm gonna go and sit in the chapel for a while. Get me when they're ready to take me to see him." Without another word, Hellboy turned and walked out.

The usually bustling corridors seemed oddly deserted, but Hellboy was too wrapped up in almost overwhelming emotions to notice much. Making his way into the Bureau Medical Wing, he pulled open the door to the small chapel and entered. That was when the true enormity of what had happened to Trevor Broom hit him like a ton of bricks.

Almost on a kind of autopilot, he worked his way up to the front of the chapel and collapsed to his knees in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary. He found himself too painfully reminded of when he had been fourteen years old. Trevor Broom, then located in the Bureau Medical Facility in Boston for cancer treatment, had suffered an almost fatal heart attack from a reaction to an arthritis drug.

Closing his eyes, he tried to pray; but there was only one set of words that kept repeating in his head. _'I swore that I would forever be there to protect him; some promise that turned out to be.' _

Hellboy had no idea how long he had been kneeling there, when a hand gently touched his shoulder. Thinking that he was finally being summoned to visit his father in the hospital, Hellboy eagerly heaved himself up from the floor; almost knocking over a priest in the process.

Father Orrin Jerrold had occasionally worked with Father Ed Kelly in the Bureau facilities in Boston. O.J., as Hellboy liked to call him, had come to Newark to conduct the Holy Week services that would usually be handled by the older priest. Father Ed, still recuperating from very serious injuries that occurred the last time he had worked with Hellboy, had gone on a trip to the Balkans earlier that year.

Orrin hadn't really known Hellboy for very long, but had seen enough to know that his affection for his adoptive father, if usually unexpressed, ran very deep. He had understood, as soon as he had heard of Trevor Broom's grave physical state, that Hellboy would be devastated when he heard the news.

"No, I'm sorry, H.B.; there's no word about your father yet. Not as far as I've heard," Orrin found himself replying to a breathless, practically inarticulate, query from a distraught seven-foot-tall demon with a tail and a huge stone hand that seemed to have lives of their own. "I'm afraid that I will have to interrupt your solitude here. I need to get ready for Mass."

"Mass? You usually don't have Mass in the middle of the day, O.J." Hellboy struggled to pull himself together as he realized that a group of Bureau personnel were entering the chapel to assist Orrin.

"Remember, today's Holy Thursday and I've got three different services at 12:00, 3:00, and 6:00. You're welcome to stay for the Noon Mass, of course. I know your father would be pleased if you did."

Hellboy nodded. "You know, Pop's been wanting me to go to Mass with him recently and I told him I wasn't interested in church anymore. I want so bad to be able to take that back, but it's too late."

"Remember, H.B., in the eyes of the Lord it's never too late. Go ahead and stay." Orrin spoke as he arranged some beautiful flowers near the altar. For him, Holy Thursday and its celebration of the institution of the Eucharist was always a bright spot in the penitential season of Lent—a calm hiatus before the grim darkness of Good Friday.

Hellboy shook his head. "I can't stay for Mass, O.J.," he sighed, "I feel so … so …" He couldn't go on.

"Sinful? Unworthy? Welcome to the club, H.B. That's why we're all here." Wrapping an arm around Hellboy's shoulders, Orrin escorted him to the back row of the chapel; where in the middle of that row was a larger seat designed just for Hellboy.

"Mass will begin in about twenty minutes, H.B.," said Orrin, giving Hellboy's shoulder a squeeze as he encouraged him to sit in his seat, "I just need to go and get into my vestments. I'll be back soon."

Orrin exited, turning the chapel lights on brighter as he left; the other people who had been with him soon followed after, leaving Hellboy sitting alone in a now brightly lit chapel. Closing his eyes against these lights, Hellboy felt the first tear that he had shed since Abe's 'bad news' track down his cheek.

After what seemed like a long time, but was probably no more than several minutes, Hellboy heard people begin to enter in order to attend the Mass. Just before the service was to begin, when the chapel was filled with the hushed prayer of the other congregants, Hellboy sensed rather than heard that someone had sat down in the seat to his left that was usually occupied by Trevor Broom.

An odd hope stirred in his heart, even though he knew it to be impossible; he would open his eyes and find his father there—just as he always was when they attended Mass together. Eyes still closed, Hellboy turned toward the occupant of his father's usual seat; arms came around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. A slight scent of what still smelled like peaches to him almost broke his heart.

"The Bureau and the FBI sent me telegrams," Kate whispered just as the Mass was beginning.

She didn't need to say anything further; Hellboy understood that for as long as he and Trevor Broom needed her, Kate would delay her move to Pittsburgh. Regardless of what shifts were occurring in his relationship with her, Hellboy was beginning to understand that their long-time friendship was as strong as it had ever been; maybe even stronger. He knew that Kate would eventually complete her move to Pittsburgh, but would always return to be right there by his side if he needed her.

As comforting as this thought was, it just made Hellboy feel even guiltier for his abandonment of a man who had always been there for him. He tried to empty his mind and attempt to pay attention to the music, readings, and sermon of one of the most solemn of the Catholic holidays.

But his mind and heart kept coming back to one idea; he had abandoned his father for a girl he wasn't sure understood how much she meant to him, or even cared that he cared.

And the worst part was that he wasn't sure if he wouldn't do it again.

_More to come…_

**Author's afterword:** I've got a big weekend ahead of me. A conference for professional Tarot Card readers and, on the same weekend, a big concert to perform. So I've posted this much of what I've written and, hopefully, will be able to get back on track after this weekend is over.

I love Tarot and performing music as much as I love Hellboy and writing my fics. I just wish I had more free time to indulge all of my passions, but life just doesn't work that way.


	51. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 12

**Author's note: **If you haven't read _Part Ten _and_ Part Eleven, _please do so as this is intimately connected to what went on in those parts. **Reminder**: This is taking place on the Thursday before Easter in 1994.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****—_Part Twelve _**

The Bureau agents, Medical Facility staff, and other personnel who attended the Noon Mass on that Holy Thursday dispersed as the service came to an end. Any conversations they might have indulged in were curtailed by their awareness of Hellboy's continuing presence in the chapel. He sat there in absolute silence, as he had sat throughout most of the just completed Mass; his head dropped down in his huge right hand, his left hand clinging tightly, even painfully, to Kate Corrigan's right hand.

Orrin Jerrold, having removed the vestments he had worn as celebrant of the Mass, returned into the chapel and sat in the seat to Hellboy's right.

"You never came up for communion, Red. Wouldn't you like to; especially on this day of all days?"

Hellboy, who had not looked up when Orrin sat down, merely shook his head; mumbling something about denying himself the Eucharist because he hadn't been to confession in 'donkey's years'.

"You never let that stop you in the past," Kate said, gently coaxing him to look up and release his crushing grip on her right hand.

"Maybe I should've," he groaned, "Maybe I should start doin' things like I'm s'posed to."

Placing a calming hand on Hellboy's huge stone hand, which could sometimes jerk out of control when Hellboy became too agitated, Orrin leaned toward him. "Regardless of all of the canon laws and requirements of the institutional church, all the Lord truly demands of you is a repentant heart."

Hellboy found he still couldn't look at Kate or Orrin. "I am sorry that I wasn't there to help my father, but… I…" he hesitated briefly and then went on, "I'm not sure I'm sorry that I went looking for Liz."

"You made some bad choices, H.B.," Orrin spoke, before Hellboy could burden himself with more guilt, "But bad choices are more often mistakes of judgment rather than terrible sins. What you need to do is learn from these mistakes, not beat yourself up over them."

"I know you're probably right, O.J." Hellboy finally turned to face Orrin, "But I still feel like I need to do something to, you know…" he trailed off.

"Yeah, I know," Orrin gave Hellboy a small grin, "That's one of the reasons why we go to confession."

Orrin looked over at Kate, "Could you leave us alone for a while?"

Kate nodded, "I'll go look for Abe. He's probably in Trevor's office." She slipped out of the chapel and moved quickly toward the exit into the main Bureau facility; not wanting to hear anything of what should be a disclosure known only to Orrin.

* * *

Orrin had been right; after unburdening himself to a sympathetic ear, Hellboy felt lighter of heart. After going with Orrin to the small altar at the front of the chapel, Hellboy allowed the priest to administer the communion bread and wine he had denied himself earlier.

Leaving Hellboy in the chapel to pray alone for a while, Orrin went to arrange for a replacement priest to be sent for the other Masses still to be done for this holiday. When it was time for Hellboy to go to the hospital, Orrin thought there might be a need for a priest. Thinking that one known to both Trevor and Hellboy would be preferable to a stranger, he planned to accompany Hellboy to the hospital.

Not wanting to still be in the chapel as the next Mass began, Hellboy eventually joined Kate and Abe in Trevor Broom's office. As he walked in, both could tell that his mood was somewhat more upbeat.

Before anyone had a chance to speak, the telephone on Trevor Broom's desk rang. Hellboy's heart skipped a beat as he wondered if this would be the summons to visit the hospital; or was it bad news? That latter thought was something he definitely tried to block from his mind.

Abe took the call, listening to who was on the other end. "Yes, she's here," he said in reply. He then handed the receiver to Kate. "It's for you; Margaret Nolan from the University of Pittsburgh."

"Yes, Maggie?" Kate pushed a nervous hand through her shoulder-length dark blond hair. Then her worried expression turned to one of relief. "Thanks for taking care of that for me. Tell the folks in the Anthropology Department I hope to be coming sometime after Easter. Like I said earlier, a personal crisis has arisen and I thank you for taking care of my luggage and personal effects."

Kate listened to the woman on the other end of the phone. "Thanks again. I hope to see you soon."

Terminating the call, Kate turned toward Hellboy. "I might not have made it to Pittsburgh, but my stuff did. I just didn't have time to get it off the plane when the telegrams finally caught up with me. Thank goodness, I was able to reach Maggie at home and arranged for US Airways to allow her to lay claim to my luggage and other effects that I had checked on the flight to Pittsburgh."

Moving closer, Hellboy took her hand. Abe moved away to give them privacy. "So, I guess you're still gonna go to Pittsburgh. I was kinda hoping that maybe you'd change your mind."

Kate drew Hellboy into a hug. "You always were and still are my very best friend, Hellboy, and I'll stay as long as you and Trevor need me. But my reasons for going to Pittsburgh haven't really changed all that much. I think we both understand that."

Pulling Kate closer, Hellboy laid her head on his chest. "Yeah, I understand," he murmured, his voice seeming to echo from subterranean pits rather than his lips, "But you know, Katie, I'll still miss you."

Drawing back from his tight embrace, Kate reached up and touched his cheek. "I think we both understand that, too, Hellboy."

For the first time since Abe had given him the news about Trevor Broom, Hellboy smiled slightly. Opening his mouth to say something further to Kate, he was cut off by the phone ringing once more.

His heart again leaping into his throat, Hellboy watched as Abe took this second call. Just as he was doing this, Orrin walked into the office. "Yes," Abe sounded relieved, "Thank you for this good news. Give us around ten or fifteen minutes. I'll call back when he's ready." Abe hung up the receiver.

Barely registering Orrin's arrival, Hellboy moved closer to Abe; clutching his huge right hand in a tight fist to keep control of it. "Good news, Abe? You mean news about my father?"

Abe wrapped his arm around Hellboy's shoulders, noting the tension there. "Very good news, Red. The Professor had briefly regained consciousness and is now able, with just the assistance of oxygen, to breathe on his own. He is unconscious again; but rather than being in a coma as before, it is more like a natural, if very deep, sleep."

As Abe continued speaking, he could feel Hellboy relax. "His heart rate and blood pressure are also stabilizing and should soon approach normal levels. As soon as you are ready to depart, the FBI will take you to him."

"Good," Hellboy sighed, 'Will you and Kate be coming?" Hellboy was loath to admit, even to himself, that he was reluctant to visit with Trevor Broom alone.

Abe shook his head. "I would love to, Red. I, too, am very anxious about the Professor's well being; but the FBI wishes to arrange for your visit after regular visiting hours. Hospital policy reserves this type of visit to immediate family only. Unfortunately, neither I nor Kate would be considered family."

Orrin Jerrold stepped forward, "I've freed myself for the rest of the day, H.B. and Tom Manning is arranging that I accompany you as the family priest. I thought it might be a good idea."

Looking relieved, Hellboy turned toward Orrin. "Thanks a lot, O.J. I still wish Abe and Katie could come with me, too; but, you're right, a priest being there with me might not be such a bad idea."

* * *

At first, it had seemed to Hellboy as if finally getting to see Trevor Broom was going to take forever. Yet, once he had really found that it was going to happen, it seemed like everything was happening way too fast. It seemed like one minute Tom Manning and a group of FBI agents were giving him a hundred different instructions on how to handle himself at the hospital and the very next minute he was being hustled, covered in his cloak, through a rear entrance of Beth Israel Hospital in Manhattan.

As Trevor Broom's condition had improved, he had been moved from the ICU to a private room. Doctor Louis Matthews, the cardiologist who had cared for Broom since his admission, had been made aware by the FBI that caution was needed to keep Broom's hospital stay and visits from his unique 'son' completely private. It was he who had decided to move his patient to an isolation ward in the Cardiac Care Unit, where only staff that had been debriefed would care for him.

Throwing back his cloak hood, Hellboy walked into the room in where Trevor Broom was located. Seeing his father lying unconscious, attached to a plethora of machines and wires, took him back to the months before his fifteenth birthday when he had almost lost his father to a similar cardiac arrest. Yet, what had occurred in 1959, no matter how frightening it had been, could mainly be attributed to a bad medication reaction. This time, Hellboy felt even worse as guilt intensified his anxiety.

He couldn't help but notice the look that passed over the face of the attendant nurse and was glad that Orrin Jerrold had been allowed to accompany him. Orrin could help Hellboy reassure the nurse, whose ID badge identified her as Marilyn Jenkins, that she had nothing to fear.

When Hellboy first arrived, he had been hurrying; but halfway into the room he just stopped as if someone had suddenly pulled a plug. He then forced himself to move step-by-step closer to the bed. Just barely noticing that Orrin had gone to speak with the nurse, he knelt by the side of the bed.

It was of some comfort to him that Trevor Broom was breathing on his own, with just a little assistance from oxygen through a nasal cannula. Reaching through the bars of the bed rail with his left hand, he cautiously took Trevor Broom's hand; careful not to disturb the IV inserted in it.

After a long moment of silence, he leaned forward and whispered the same words he had once whispered to an unconscious Trevor Broom in 1959; but his voice had deepened so much since then that it was hard for the nurse and Orrin not to overhear. They moved away to give him more privacy.

Like many residents of the New York area, Marilyn Jenkins had seen media reports of the 'Hellboy' who reputedly worked for the FBI as a monster hunter. She had never thought these reports much more than fodder for supermarket tabloid sales or television network news ratings. To suddenly have this creature presented to her as a reality filled her with both dread and an intense curiosity.

Rather than paying much attention to what Orrin was saying to her, Marilyn couldn't help looking at Hellboy as he knelt next to the bed, a nervously gesticulating tail peeping out from under his cloak. She found herself impressed with the extreme care that he had used as he took her patient's hand.

Marilyn looked even more closely as Hellboy, continuing to hold Trevor Broom's hand, almost broke into tears. He then murmured something further; something she was surprised to notice was some kind of prayer. She was annoyed with herself for staring at him; knowing that she would never stare at other hospital visitors—no matter how odd-looking they were. Self-consciously clearing her throat, she turned back toward the man who had introduced himself as Father Jerrold.

Knowing that the priest had probably noticed her staring at Hellboy, Marilyn blushed slightly.

"I'm sorry, Father Jerrold; I can't help being curious," she spoke softly, not wanting Hellboy to hear.

"Please, call me Orrie; and I hope you won't mind if I call you Marilyn," he said with a smile.

Orrin gestured for Marilyn to move with him as far as possible from where Hellboy was still kneeling next to Trevor Broom's bedside.

"Believe me, Marilyn," he said softly, "Your curiosity is perfectly normal; but H.B. is really nothing more or less than a man anxious about his father's health and worried that he might lose him."

Marilyn nodded. "I'm not sure what I expected, Orrie; but this gentle giant wasn't it. Certainly this isn't what the media reports have portrayed about him."

"No, it certainly isn't," he agreed, "But even if those reports are usually exaggerated, they aren't exactly inaccurate; just one-sided. After all, his occupation is not a gentle one. Yet, there is so much more to him than these reports show; including that comic book produced earlier this year."

Marilyn leaned toward Orrin, "I've seen that comic book. My son, a doctor on the medical staff here, bought it when it was first released. When he had been a medical student at New York University in the late seventies, he was sure that he had gotten a glimpse of Hellboy at a diner near the University where something weird had happened. Over the years since then, he's collected all of the information about Hellboy he could get his hands on; including that comic book. I'm afraid I was rather dismissive of Danny's claims to have seen Hellboy all those years ago."

Orrin nodded, "I haven't known Trevor and Hellboy all that long, but I understand that there was some major paranormal crisis that happened near NYU around the time you are referring to."

* * *

Hellboy was often self-conscious about what other people thought of him. Yet, even though he was well aware of how closely the nurse had been watching him earlier and that she was now speaking to Orrin about him, all he could be concerned about was the well being of the man whose hand he held.

That hand felt ice cold to Hellboy; and, unless he looked closely, it was hard to see the rise and fall of his father's chest as he breathed. Unlike when he had been fourteen years old, many current heart monitors functioned almost noiselessly. He wished he could still hear the steady beeping that had been so reassuring thirty-five years before. Every time he let his eyes drift closed, it felt like he was holding the hand of someone who had died.

Hellboy kept glancing up at the screen on the heart monitor; assuming that the steadily undulating line full of peaks and valleys meant his father's heart was still functioning. The sense of déjà vu that he had felt earlier that morning began to intensify.

He once again had the odd sensation that he was re-experiencing something from a past life rather than living in the present. An unexpected wave of dizziness passed over him. The room became unbearably cold and it was as if all of the lighting fixtures shed light while illuminating nothing.

A dark voice issued from that terrible void. **_"This was just a test. One that I am delighted to find you failed miserably, my Son. The time is still not yet nigh, but it draws closer." _**

Another wave of dizziness passed over Hellboy and everything went black.

When he returned to awareness, he found that he was still holding on to Trevor Broom's hand; but he had sagged further toward the floor, with his head leaning against the side of the bed. He must have fallen asleep. He certainly felt like he had been dreaming something; but whatever it had been seemed to have slipped beyond conscious awareness.

Just as he was starting to straighten up again, he felt a little tremor in the fingers of the hand he held. As he looked closer at Trevor Broom, he heard him give a low moan.

"Father?" Hellboy raised himself up higher in order to see him better. "Father, it's me. I'm here."

He then turned toward Orrin and Marilyn. "I think he's starting to come to."

Marilyn moved toward the door. "I'll send for someone to fetch Doctor Matthews. He's going to want to examine him again now that he's waking up."

Orrin moved closer to Hellboy, just as Trevor Broom's eyes started to come open. He looked up at Hellboy for a long time in silence.

"I looked for you," he finally said, "But I couldn't find you; so, I had to deal with it myself. And men died because I'm too damn old to be strong enough or fast enough. I should stop…"

Trevor Broom closed his eyes again. Then, as much as he was able, he turned away from Hellboy.

Feeling like something about the size of his own right hand had just squeezed out all of his breath, Hellboy was taken aback as he came to realize that his father had started to weep.

"Please, Father, please don't. It's all my fault; don't blame yourself." Kneeling higher and leaning over the bed rail, Hellboy carefully lifted Trevor Broom into his arms as he sobbed even harder, burying his face in Hellboy's chest.

As this was happening, the door to the room opened and Doctor Matthews walked in. Orrin had again moved away during this exchange between Hellboy and Trevor Broom. He intercepted the doctor, hoping to give them a little more time alone.

There were about a hundred different things Hellboy wanted to say to the man whose tears he felt saturating his cloak and shirt; but he could only hold him closer and hope that this would be enough to express everything he could never say out loud.

Trevor Broom generally exhibited a typical British reserve in times of crisis and Hellboy could count on one hand the times he had seen his father break into tears like this. _'And every single one of those times was because of me,'_ Hellboy thought bitterly, as he finally felt Trevor Broom calm down.

"When I am sufficiently recovered from this," Broom sighed, as Hellboy gently placed him back down on the bed, "You will have to explain to me where you managed to disappear to. You are more to me than merely my son; you are one of the chief agents of the Bureau. As the Bureau's director, I must be able to count on you; to trust you to be where I expect you to be."

Hellboy wanted, needed to say something further; but just then, Doctor Matthews approached them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to give Professor Broom a brief examination now and then let him rest until tomorrow, when I will give him a more thorough exam."

Hellboy backed away from the bed so that the doctor could more easily approach it.

"I am hoping," Doctor Matthews continued, as he drew closer to Trevor Broom, "To see you recover fast enough that you can be transferred to your own medical facility for further care; possibly even as early as Saturday afternoon."

"I'd like that," Broom said with a weary smile, "I'd like to spend Easter at home; with my son."

As Hellboy and the agents who had accompanied him returned to Newark, he couldn't help remembering something Trevor Broom had once said about him. _"Even from the time he was nine years old, we have always been a team. Other agents may come and go; but I know that he will always be there, fighting right along side me. I trust him with my life." _

No matter what his intentions had been, Hellboy had betrayed that trust and knew that it would be a long, hard road before he regained it again.

_More to come… _

**Author's afterword:** Poor Hellboy. Unlike Trevor Broom or Abe, who came into his life and then stayed in his life, Liz keeps coming into his life and then leaving again. Even Kate, whose physical presence in his life was curtailed by her career and travels, was always a part of his life in some way.

They do say that the course of true love doesn't run smoothly.

P.S. Thanks to those who have been leaving such great reviews. Your kind words keep me going.


	52. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 13

**Author's note: **This follows directly after _Part Twelve_, but will be returning to the 2178 time period of _Part One_. **Reminder**: The 1994 part of this is taking place in the days before Easter. 'Lee', the FBI liaison Tom Manning replaced is an original character of mine. A long-time member of Congress, he is now a retired Senator. In his connection to the BPRD, he is only referred to by his codename. Martha Wilson and Robert Patterson are also original characters of mine that have appeared in several of my earlier Hellboy writings.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love****—_Part Thirteen _**

It was after midnight when Hellboy and the agents accompanying him returned to Newark. Now that Hellboy was more reassured that Trevor Broom would recover from his heart attack, the crushing anxiety that had filled his heart faded; but the guilt he had been feeling grew by leaps and bounds.

Knowing that sleep would come with difficulty, if at all, Hellboy asked to be able to return to his father's office rather than being made to stay in his own room. Assuming the possibility that Abe and Kate were still waiting there for his return, he would much rather be with them than remain alone with nothing but his pet cats and his guilt for company.

As Hellboy made this request of Tom Manning, he couldn't help comparing him to 'Lee', the FBI liaison Manning had replaced. Both were large, balding men of above average height. Both handled themselves well when faced with media queries dealing with the officially non-existent Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense and its just as officially non-existent chief monster hunter.

Yet, at this point, the comparisons had to stop. 'Lee' had only the highest respect for Trevor Broom and had thought of Hellboy as a kind of surrogate nephew; he was also a highly placed politician who, at many points in his long association with Trevor Broom, had been able to use his position to smooth over frictions between the BPRD and the FBI. Tom Manning, as Director of FBI Special Operations, wasn't much more than a bureaucrat whose dealings with the BPRD had a definite personal agenda.

Hellboy watched as Tom Manning took a drag on his ubiquitous cigar and slowly blew out the smoke. Standing silent for a long moment, Manning then shrugged. "Do as you please, Hellboy," he said, "Just remember one very important thing; Trevor is chief director of this Bureau and we in the FBI hold him completely responsible for your actions."

Manning took another slow drag on his cigar, "Now, mind you, I happen to like Trevor and I'm just as glad as the next man that his health is improving; but it's a damn good thing he's so ill right now or he'd be called in to Washington so fast it'd make his head spin."

Abruptly dropping his offhand manner, Manning pointed his long cigar in Hellboy's face and growled, "Don't make things any worse for him than they already are." Turning on his heel, he walked away. The implied threat hung in the air like the cloud of cigar smoke that trailed after him.

Well aware of how his actions had contributed to the situation, Hellboy was more in need of a lecture from a man who respected and cared for him than the bullying he generally received from Manning. Wishing that 'Lee' had never had to retire, Hellboy showed an unusual restraint and just stood there; when he really wanted nothing more than to grab Manning and stuff those words down his throat.

Hellboy's anger quickly dissipated as he entered Trevor Broom's office and saw those who were waiting for his return. Not only were Kate and Abe there, as he had expected, but Robert Patterson, the retired chief surgeon from the Bureau adjunct headquarters in Boston. He was fast asleep on one of the leather couches near the central fireplace. Seated next to him was Martha Wilson Patterson, the former head nurse of the Boston facility who had married Robert after her own retirement.

Martha had her head on Robert's shoulder and was staring pensively into the fire. As elderly as Robert and Martha now were, Hellboy realized that he should not have been surprised to see them. The Boston facility had been the first official Bureau headquarters after the move from New Mexico. When the main headquarters had relocated to Newark, Robert and Martha continued on for decades as important personnel in the still-utilized Boston facility. They had also maintained a close personal relationship with Trevor Broom and Hellboy that long abided after their retirements from the Bureau.

In addition, as both father and son had occasion to receive treatment in the Medical Facility in Boston, Martha and Robert were still kept informed of any emergencies or other personal crises that arose. Hellboy felt an additional twinge of guilt as he began to understand that his unofficial trip to Portland could also have ramifications for others.

Martha looked up as Hellboy walked in. Having a tendency to dress in outfits that reflected her former military career, she had on a dark-blue blouse and skirt. In many ways, she looked very similar to how she had looked when Hellboy first met her in November of 1951; but her once long, dark hair, still pulled into a bun, was almost completely white.

She usually had an affectionate greeting for him, as he had, ever since his younger years in Boston, been almost as a son to one who never had children of her own. This time, he found nothing but sadness and concern etched into her features.

Martha stayed seated, but Kate and Abe arose and moved toward him. Kate's expression was very similar to Martha's and even Abe appeared anxious in spite of his generally inexpressive countenance.

Of the three, it was Kate who spoke first, "Hellboy, how is Trevor? We heard that he woke up and had spoken with you; but not much more than that."

Since his arrival back to the Bureau, Hellboy had already answered similar inquiries from almost every agent he encountered. Obviously, the secretive and overly officious Tom Manning had only given out minimal information as to Trevor Broom's current state of health. Hellboy found it comforting that so many seemed to be just as worried about Trevor Broom as he was.

"Doctor Matthews thinks he's getting strong enough to move to our own Medical Wing; maybe by Saturday afternoon, I guess that's tomorrow by now."

"Thank God," Kate sighed, "That is good news."

As she spoke, Hellboy sank into the largest nearby chair, beginning to realize how very tired he was.

"It's certainly a relief to know that Trevor's condition is improving," Martha gave Hellboy a smile as she stood up from the couch where she was seated, "Let's get some sleep now. I'm sure everything will look even better after we've gotten some rest."

Kate reached out and gave Martha a hug, "It's good to see you and Bob again, Marty; even under these circumstances." As she started to leave, she touched Hellboy's shoulder. "I'll see you later."

"Katie, have they got you set up with a room and everything?" It suddenly occurred to Hellboy that Kate had packed up all of her belongings early Wednesday morning and departed the Bureau with no intention of returning any time soon.

"Don't worry about me," Kate said with a grin, "They've already given me a room, and I remembered that security still had some personal effects of mine in storage. So, I'll be okay for a few days."

Hellboy nodded and Kate turned and went out of the office. As Martha moved away to wake the still sleeping Robert, Abe crouched down to look closer at Hellboy, who was still sitting in the chair.

"You okay, Red? It's not that I'm intentionally reading your thoughts, but…"

"Yeah, I guess I still 'broadcast far and wide' when I'm upset," Hellboy said with a little chuckle, recalling the first really big argument he had with Abe back when the fish-man first came to the Bureau almost sixteen years before.

Heaving himself up from the not very comfortable chair, Hellboy stretched. "I'll be okay, Blue, especially as soon as Pop comes home. I just wish I could stop worrying about Liz."

"Don't tell anyone this, Red," Abe said softly, hoping Martha wouldn't overhear, "The other day I attempted to 'read' where Liz had run off to. I know the Professor has made it clear that she has the right to go where she chooses with no interference or pressure from us; yet, I sense that he's just as worried about her as you are. I can't help being concerned myself; the only thing she ever really seemed to learn during her training here was how to avoid being found when she didn't want to be."

"Believe me, I know," Hellboy sighed, "Thanks for trying, Blue." Pawing through several pockets of his leather coat, Hellboy drew out a cigar; then reluctantly stuffed it back in when he remembered that Trevor Broom really disliked him 'smelling up' his office. "Go on and get some sleep. I'll be fine."

As Abe moved toward the spiral staircase at the rear of the office to depart for his private quarters, Hellboy went over to where Martha was again sitting next to Robert on the couch.

She looked up at Hellboy, "I almost hate having to wake Robert, he's been sleeping so poorly of late; but he would be better off in a real bed."

Hellboy reached down and gently touched Martha's cheek with his left hand. "You both would've been better off if you hadn't needed to drop everything and come here. I hope you guys didn't drive."

"No, the Bureau facility in Boston arranged for a private jet to fly us to Newark," Martha said with a barely stifled yawn, "Bob and I still have some friends there, if you know what I mean."

As Martha rose again from the couch, Hellboy reached down with his left arm and pulled her up into a tight embrace, briefly burying his face in her shoulder before letting go of her again. "C'mon, Marty; let's get Bob to bed. I'll bet you I can lift him up from the couch without waking him."

It always amazed Martha how gentle Hellboy could be with that enormous right hand of his; the fruits, she was sure, of the patient upbringing he had received from Trevor Broom. Even though Hellboy almost never expressed in words his feelings for the man who had raised him, Martha had always understood how close the two were. That was the most disconcerting thing to her about this whole recent affair; how any person alive could mean enough to Hellboy to draw him away from his father's side when they were out in the field together.

With Martha's assistance, Hellboy gently lifted the still sleeping Robert Patterson from the couch. "He's lost weight, hasn't he, Marty? Has Bob been sick recently?"

Giving Hellboy a sad, little smile, Martha shook her head. "The doctors can't figure out what's wrong. It's probably just old age catching up with him, you know."

Hellboy nodded. "All right, then, just lead the way to you guy's room."

Ten minutes later, Martha and Hellboy finished tucking a slumbering Robert Patterson into the bed after Martha had pulled off his belt and shoes. Stooping down, Hellboy planted a kiss on Martha's cheek and then turned and left without saying another word.

Once back out in the corridor, he started to make for his own quarters; but then turned and eventually made his way to the chapel in the Medical Wing. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting in silent thought at the feet of the statue of the Virgin Mary when Martha Wilson walked up to him.

"You really do need to talk, don't you, H.B.?" she said with a little grin. "I can always tell."

Looking up at her, he gave a shrug. "C'mon, Marty, you must be almost as tired out as Bob and…"

She lowered herself onto the floor next to him, "I'm never too tired to be there for my favorite boy. And don't try to tell me that you don't need to talk; I know you far too well for that guff."

Hellboy watched as Martha tucked her legs up under her and adjusted her skirt. Looking away again, he picked at the carpet with the fingers of his left hand. This was a nervous action Hellboy had performed in the past during other conversations with Martha, either in the small chapel in the Boston facility or here in this larger chapel in Newark; a sure sign to her of how troubled he really was.

"Where do you want me to start," he finally said, still picking at the rug, "With the idiocy of running off to look for Liz and leaving Father open to an attack that almost killed him? Or with spending so much time worrying about Liz that I've finally driven Katie away?"

He stopped picking at the rug and looked up at Martha. "I'm not dense, you know. No matter how much Katie goes on about it being time for her to 'move on', and maybe it is, I know its Liz that's the real problem between us."

Heaving a huge sigh, Hellboy went back to picking at the rug. Martha watched in silence for a while, before wrapping her right arm as far around his shoulders as she could.

Slightly resisting this at first, Hellboy eventually scrunched down and leaned his head on her shoulder. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I really don't. I used to be so sure that I was in love with Katie. Now, I'm just not sure about anything anymore; especially not after leaving Pop in the lurch like that."

Hellboy raised his head again, passing his left hand over his face. "No, I take some of that back. There're still some things I'm sure of. For one thing, Katie's still the best friend a guy could have. And I'm still sure I have the best father any guy's ever had, but…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"But what, Hellboy?" Martha said, as he pulled slightly away from her embrace, "As far as I can tell, the one common denominator in all of what you're saying seems to be this Liz. Kate and Abe told me a few things while you were still at the hospital visiting Trevor and…"

Hellboy immediately bristled at what he believed was being suggested. "Look, Marty; don't go there. Whatever's happened is not Liz's fault and don't let anyone else tell you it is."

Martha shook her head. "I didn't say that it was, dear; and Kate and Abe didn't suggest that either. It's just that I'm surprised at how wound up you've gotten yourself over her."

"Yeah, but Liz isn't even nineteen yet," Hellboy sighed, "Back before Kate turned nineteen, even if I could only write letters, at least I knew she had her mother to take care of her and 'Lee' managed to keep in touch. Kate's all grown up now and I trust her to take care of herself. I'll sure miss her when she leaves; but I know I won't have to worry. With Liz, it's different. Jeez, I even worry when I'm right there to help her. You can't imagine what its like not knowing where she is."

The last time Martha remembered Hellboy getting quite this 'wound up', as she called it, was almost sixteen years earlier when he thought he was falling in love with Kate Corrigan. Now, he was even more voluble than he had been then; something surprising in a being that usually had difficulty putting what he felt into words. As Hellboy went on, Martha knew that something had really changed.

"You know, back when Katie was nineteen, I still looked on her as my 'little sister'. I would have died a million deaths for her, but I never would've thought of it as being 'in love'. Then Kate 'growed up to be a pretty one', as you put it back in '78; and I was sure I'd fallen in love for good, even though Kate kept telling me that I wasn't really in love with her and someday I'd know the difference."

He fell silent for a long moment, picking at the rug again. "Now there's Liz," he added in a low voice, "Except for worrying about her all the time, I'm not sure what I feel; but it's sure as hell different than what I used to feel for Katie when she was nineteen. I'll tell you what; instead of worrying about Liz, I'd rather go back to thinking I was in love with Kate. At least what I had with her was predictable."

In spite of the distraught being sitting in front of her, Martha couldn't help giving a little chuckle. Hellboy's head snapped up and he glared down at the elderly woman seated next to him on the floor of the chapel. "I almost got Father killed chasing after Liz. I don't see what's so funny about that."

Martha gave Hellboy a wry smile. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean for it to come out that way. It's just that being in love is seldom predictable."

Hellboy's irritation with Martha faded as quickly as it had arisen, leaving him filled with a completely unidentifiable emotion. "In love?" he echoed softy; he then leaned in closer. "I know you're not talking about Kate. You really think I'm in love with Liz, don't you." It was only half a question.

"I think you might be, H.B." Martha gently touched his shoulder. "But only you can tell for sure."

"How can I be sure that I'm in love with Liz, when I'm so damn confused about everything else?" Hellboy muttered, "I used to be so sure that Katie and I would always be lovers; so sure that I would always be there to protect my father." He hesitated; and then spoke so low that Martha almost couldn't hear him, "I used to be sure that my father would always trust me."

Martha again pulled Hellboy into her arms. "H.B., I've known both you and Trevor for a long time, and can see how well you love and trust each other. Yet, even if the trust between you will never totally be lost, it can, far too easily, be temporarily misplaced."

Once again, Hellboy tried to force back tears; but it didn't work. For the first time since he had shed one lone tear as the Holy Thursday Mass started, he wept as he hadn't wept since that time in 1959 when he was sure his father was dying from cancer. And just as he had then, he buried his face in Martha's shoulder and allowed her to hold him tight as they sat together on the floor of the chapel.

The fact that it was now Good Friday made Hellboy feel even worse as he had to admit to himself that, given the chance, he would again take off to find Liz; regardless of consequences. He pulled Martha closer to him with his left arm as he wept even harder—feeling worse than any Judas for even considering betraying his father's trust in that manner a second time.

* * *

_The place where Hellboy found himself sitting was pitch black and very cold. The tears that had been running down his cheeks were still there, but the woman that had held him in her arms was gone. _

_"Marty," Hellboy called out, "Marty, where did you go? Please, come back, please." _

_His voice echoed as if in a vast cavern, and yet the place seemed small and airless. He felt like he was suffocating and the darkness seemed to become even deeper and colder. _

_**"Welcome back, my son; my favorite son."** _

_Hellboy had heard this cold, dark voice before and hoped never to hear it again. Gasping for breath, he struggled to pull into his lungs enough of the non-existent air to speak. "You keep calling me son," he finally managed to rasp out, "but I'm not your son and I never will be." _

_**"Soon, my son, very soon, you will remember no family but me." **_

_Hellboy dragged himself up and sought a way out of this tomblike room. Groping blindly until he found what felt like a door, he battered it open with his huge stone-like right hand. Light suddenly dispelled the darkness and a rush of air filled his lungs. "I remember everyone I ever loved and everything I ever did," he said, his voice gaining strength, "and no one can take that away from me." _

_"Not even you," he growled, as he turned away from that terrible presence. A menacing power seized him from behind; but tearing himself away, he crashed to the floor of the room beyond the doorway. _

* * *

Opening his eyes, Hellboy found himself lying on the cement floor of his former private quarters. Propped up against the table in front of him was the huge portrait that Malachy, the often-irritating avatar of Michael the Archangel, had dragged out from its place of concealment.

"Aw, goddamn," he groaned, "I must've fallen asleep or something. Those were sure weird dreams."

"Were they dreams, H.B.?" Hellboy saw a young, dark-haired woman standing before him; one who had died an elderly cancer victim 175 years earlier, yet looked as young as when they first met. Martha Wilson took him by his left hand and helped him up from the floor. "Come; there is more that must be remembered," she said—as she again drew him through the framed portrait into his past.

_More to come..._

_**Author's afterword:** Sorry this update has been so long in coming. Part of the delay has to do with general busyness and part to do with the emotional difficulty of this chapter. At times, I was literally only able to produce around a paragraph a day. Thanks to all who have been reading this and leaving such great reviews and/or making it a favorite. Also, thanks to those who reviewed the little fics I posted recently in order to break my writer's block._


	53. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 14

**Author's note**: This chapter is not following a linear progression in the storytelling. Part Thirteen ended with a significant conversation between retired nurse Martha Wilson and Hellboy in 1994; followed by a brief return to the 2178 time period of Part One. This part will begin with an interlude; followed by a narrative that takes place a few years after the end of the first Hellboy movie. Some things I want to avoid: I have no particular urge in this chapter to merely retell in my own words what we already know took place between H.B. and Liz in the first movie. I'm planning on saving some of that for my John Myers chapter. I also want to avoid developing a storyline that will deviate to any large extent from what Mike Mignola and Guillermo del Toro are planning to reveal in Hellboy 2: The Golden Army, which is in principle photography even as we speak and due out next summer. (Yippee!!)

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love **

**_Interlude_**

_Rolling along with the direction of the wave, Hellboy allowed it to push him up onto the beach. Blinking salt water out of his eyes, he pushed back hair that had worked its way out of its usual knot. _

_"This is weird," he mumbled out loud, as he looked around at the beautifully sunny and familiar vista of white sand and palm trees that surrounded him. "How in the hell did I manage to get back here?" _

_Here was definitely that little island in the Bahamas where he had spent one of the most memorable weeks of his life in February of 1987. Yet, it had been many years later than 1987 when he went to bed last night; a bed that for the first time in almost a year was missing the woman he had married in March of 2005. _

_Shaking his head, Hellboy tried to remember what had driven Liz away from him the previous night and how he had managed to return to a location he hadn't seen in over 20 years. Maybe this was nothing but a dream; and, yet, as he looked toward the two cabins in the distance, it felt so real. _

_Feeling a bit silly just standing there, dripping water from the black swim trunks he was now wearing, Hellboy began to trudge along the beach toward the closer of those cabins; the one that Trevor Broom had stayed in back in 1987. _

_"Pop? You in here?" he said, as he pushed the door to the cabin open and entered into its pleasantly cool interior. One part of him felt that it was a little ridiculous to call out for a man who had been dead for several years; while, at the same time, a much larger part of him hoped that this was one of those pleasant dreams where anything you truly wanted could happen. Frequently, Hellboy's dreams about Trevor Broom were nightmares; the horrifying kind where he stood paralyzed and helpless as the one person who meant more to him than any other was murdered right in front of his eyes. _

_Looking around as he entered, he called out again; but everything was silent. A tweed jacket on a hook just inside the cabin entrance caught his eye; it was his father's favorite jacket. A jacket that he remembered from his earliest years and one that he recalled seeing Trevor Broom wear just a few days before he had been stabbed, when Hellboy had been just short of his sixtieth birthday. _

_Gently taking it down from the hook with his normal-sized left hand, Hellboy closed his eyes and buried his face in it. Taking a deep breath, a feeling half of joy and half of deep sorrow washed over him as the scents that clung to its soft, well-worn folds reminded him of a man he had lost forever. _

_A man that, just the night before, he had been wishing was still around to give him advice. _

_Sighing, Hellboy replaced the jacket on the hook. What started out as a pleasant dream was quickly turning into something that reminded him of how he had started taking his father's advice for granted; how he had stopped listening to most of what he had been trying to say to him. _

_It was as if this enormous door had been locked between them that neither had the power to open; and when Hellboy had knelt on the blood-soaked carpet in his father's office with his body in his arms, that door had suddenly flown open, when it was far too late to either ask for or to offer forgiveness. _

_Hellboy wished he could turn back the clock, smash down that locked door, and listen to anything his father wanted to say to him; wished he could take back the angry, hurtful things he had said to Liz the evening before. Even though he still loved Liz with every fiber of his being, he knew that he was allowing a very similar, impenetrable door to come between them and again felt helpless to prevent it. _

_"Oh, I'm such a damned fool," he groaned. _

_"Hmm, maybe," a heart-breakingly familiar voice said from the kitchen, "But you must be famished after your long swim. Come on in and I'll make you some toasted cheese sandwiches; that should hold you over until supper is ready." _

_Walking into the kitchen, Hellboy soon found himself face-to-face with the man who had raised him; the British man who had always called grilled cheese sandwiches 'toasted cheese' and made them from white bread and sharp cheddar toasted under the broiler rather than fried in butter. _

_"Go ahead and sit down, Son. These won't take long." Finding himself unable to say one word, Hellboy sank into one of the large chairs at the kitchen table and watched Trevor Broom fuss with what he had at one time called 'the ultimate comfort food'. Soon a plate piled high with the gooey, deliciously smelling, brown-toasted sandwiches had been placed on the table before Hellboy. _

_There had been a time, years before, when a plate of these sandwiches and the attentive ear of his ever-wise father would get him to admit to whatever was bothering him; and the advice given to him seemed like just the perfect thing. Then there came that day when Trevor Broom hadn't seemed so wise anymore and Hellboy's troubles seemed too big for toasted cheese sandwiches and quiet talks. _

_Calmly turning away to clean up the pan he had used, Trevor Broom gave Hellboy a little time to collect his scattered wits. He then sat down at one of the other chairs at the table and pushed the plate of sandwiches closer to Hellboy. "Please, eat; it will make you feel better." _

_Hellboy took a deep, if somewhat shaky breath as if about to say something; instead, he picked up one of the still-warm sandwiches and took a large bite. The combination of melted cheese and crisp, perfectly toasted bread tasted just as wonderful as he remembered; but he could hardly swallow anything past the ever-growing lump in his throat. _

_Looking into the face of the father he thought he would never see again, he saw nothing but love in the light-brown eyes that he could just barely discern behind the familiar spectacles. He would have expected anger and accusation, or at least disappointment, in the eyes of the man he had left alone and unprotected to go chasing after his own selfish needs. All he could see was the same profound affection for him that had always been there, even at the very lowest ebb of their relationship. _

_Looking down at the plate in front of him, Hellboy shook his head. "I'm sorry, Father; no amount of cheese sandwiches are gonna make me feel better." _

_"Son, look at me," Trevor Broom gently turned Hellboy's face back toward him, "You should never be sorry for telling people how you feel. It's better than leaving them guessing." Smiling, he nodded and dropped his hand again. "Now, eat another of those sandwiches and tell me what's bothering you." _

_Hellboy picked up a sandwich and looked down at it for a time. "I can't help it," he finally muttered, "when Liz lets other guys talk to her, I just go completely crazy." He started mangling the sandwich he still held in his left hand. "It's bad enough that she's got to work with other guys at the Bureau; but that last mission in Pennsylvania, did she really have to let that waiter…" _

_Before Hellboy could finish what he was saying, Trevor Broom reached out and touched his left hand, interrupting further destruction of the innocent sandwich, and stopping the ever-louder flow of words. _

_"So, you don't trust Liz?" Trevor Broom asked as Hellboy looked up at him again. _

_"Her, I trust just fine," he grumbled, "It's those other guys; I for sure don't trust them." _

_Hellboy pulled his left hand away from Trevor Broom and angrily bit into the squashed sandwich as if it were one of 'those other guys' that he so distrusted. "Maybe I do overreact sometimes," he went on as he chomped what he had bitten off, "but there're other times that… and then Liz gets pissed off at me and I say stuff that I don't really mean and then…" _

_"She's right to be 'pissed off', as you so succinctly put it, Son," Trevor Broom said with a small grin, "Somehow, Liz never came across to me as one who would be untrustworthy in matters of the heart. I believe she would be strong enough to deal with any man who treated her in an inappropriate way." _

_Finishing off the sandwich he was eating, Hellboy picked up another and started munching on that. "What I don't get, Pop, is why she has to talk to these other guys at all; can't I be enough for her?" _

_Trevor Broom shook his head; "It's not fair of you to expect Liz to isolate herself from others like that. How would you like it if she insisted that you cut off your friendship with Kate Corrigan because at one time you and Kate used to be lovers?" _

_"Yeah, but Liz knows that Katie and I haven't… at least not since, you know …" Hellboy trailed off. _

_"Yes, I know," Trevor Broom sighed, "I also know that Liz has always trusted that to be true and knows you well enough to be sure you will always be faithful." _

_Hellboy shrugged, "Outside of Kate and Liz, what girls have ever been interested in me?" _

_Trevor Broom laughed, "So, have you been faithful to Liz merely due to lack of temptation?" _

_Hellboy glared at him and muttered, "Of course not; you know that." _

_"Of course, I know that," Broom replied with a smile and then became more serious, "You should trust that Liz also intends to be faithful to you and knows how to handle temptation." _

_Hellboy made an impatient gesture with the cheese sandwich he held in his left hand, opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again. "You're right, Pop, just like always," he eventually muttered, "I don't really trust Liz and she knows it. That's why she so pissed off." _

_Hellboy dropped his half-eaten sandwich onto the plate in front of him and stood up from the table. Turning away from Trevor Broom, he stared out of a window that afforded a view onto the placid ocean and serenely beautiful beach. He wished that this external calm could tame the conflicting emotions that battled inside of him. _

_"I can't help what I feel," Hellboy eventually said, without turning around. _

_"No, you cannot," he heard his father's voice, "What you feel is what you feel; but you can help the way you act on those feelings. The well-controlled man learns to be in command of his actions rather than reacting in the heat of the moment and then regretting those actions later." _

_"Since when have I ever not acted in the heat of the moment?" Hellboy laughed, as he turned away from the window again. "Direct and in your face; that's my way of dealing with almost everything." _

_Trevor Broom moved closer and laid his left hand on Hellboy's shoulder. "Son, I am so very proud of how you have changed and grown since last we met; however, your relationship with Liz demands a level of maturity that I fear you have yet to attain." _

_Silently turning his head to the right, Hellboy laid his cheek on the hand that still lay on his shoulder; the hand that, so many times in the past, had been there when he needed an anchor to hang on to; the same hand that he had touched one last time as he held a dead body close to him. _

_Lifting his head again, Hellboy took a deep breath, "Father, I…" _

_As he began to speak, the kitchen where he was standing flashed out of existence; spinning into a gigantic wave of seawater that dragged him into total darkness. Reaching out for anything that he could grab on to in order not to be swept away as the water began to pour into a measureless abyss, he slammed up against what felt like a large wooden frame. _

_As he clung desperately to this, the water drained away and light returned; and he once again found himself standing before an enormous portrait propped up against a table._

_

* * *

_

**Part Fourteen**

Hellboy sat up with a gasp. Finding himself alone in the bed he had long ago fabricated from an old red pickup truck and a mattress, he wondered where Liz had gone. The large room was more quiet than usual, especially now that he was alone.

At one time, regardless of the hour, his room would have been filled with the light and sound of his many television sets. Hellboy could sleep through almost anything. Liz could not; and he agreed on most evenings to keep the room dark and quiet after midnight. She, for her part, had agreed to let him keep his large brood of cats and kittens as long as his pets were not too intrusive.

In the dim stillness, Hellboy could hear the contented purring of several of his cats from Liz's usual spot on the bed. He almost drifted back to sleep; but then recalled why Liz was not sleeping with him, recalled the silly fight he had picked with her the evening before.

At almost the same time, bits and pieces of a strange dream came into his head. If he hadn't been so annoyed with himself for once again driving Liz crazy, he would have smiled at what he recalled of that dream. Usually, his dreams of Trevor Broom were nightmares about his murder, not visions of toasted cheese sandwiches and beautiful white-sanded beaches.

Unfortunately, he could recall little else; beyond how strange the dream became just before some noise awakened him. As he shifted on the mattress, wondering what this noise had been, he heard the sound of someone stumbling in the darkness and realized that the large metal door to his quarters was now slightly ajar.

"Ouch!" He then heard a series of intense, if whispered curses from the other side of the room.

"Lizzie?" Sitting up further, Hellboy stared in the dark toward where he thought the sound had come.

"Yeah, Red, it's me." Her voice sounded somewhat tight, as if she were in pain.

Leaning over the wooden-slatted side of the truck where he was half-reclining, Hellboy pressed a switch that turned on some lights without giving power to the televisions. He then slid down the mattress to the open metal tailgate and sat there watching Liz limp over to him.

"You okay?" he asked as she sat down at the end of the truck next to him.

"Stepped on a piece of glass," she replied as she bent down to examine her foot. "Must have been from that mug I threw at you last night."

"Jeez, I thought I cleaned that up." Hellboy bent to look closer at Liz's injury. There was a long gash that was bleeding profusely. Guilt welled up. If he hadn't provoked her to anger, she wouldn't have broken the mug; if he had been more careful in cleaning up the ceramic fragments rather than fuming over their argument, she wouldn't have cut herself.

"C'mon, Lizzie; let's go get that cut cleaned up." He helped her stand from the tailgate that comprised the foot of their bed. As he did this, she sucked in her breath in pain.

"I think there's still a splinter in my foot," she winced as she sank back down to the tailgate.

Hellboy bent down and lifted Liz's smaller-framed body into his arms, carrying her across the room toward the partially open door. He couldn't help thinking of the time he had carried her through a confusion of tunnels below a Moscow cemetery, when Liz appeared more dead than alive and Hellboy was sure it was the end of their relationship before they even had a beginning. Or carrying her on their wedding day the following year, when she had never seemed more alive nor he more happy.

As Hellboy walked toward the medical wing, he began to wonder why he was allowing the unexpected beauty of their devotion to one another degenerate into these petty squabbles. He was not the most introspective of beings; yet, recent events, coupled with some vague memories of his latest dream of Trevor Broom, started to send Hellboy's thoughts down unaccustomed paths.

The very act of carrying in his arms the woman he loved more than any other brought Hellboy's reflection back to what had happened in Moscow a little over a year earlier. He couldn't help recalling how Rasputin, dangling Hellboy's love for Liz in front of him like some infernal carrot, had almost managed to seduce him to his nefarious purposes.

Yet, all it had taken was one mere reminder to Hellboy of the man who had raised him and loved him; and Rasputin and his dark plans were smashed against something as solid and real to Hellboy as the Rock of Gibraltar. After getting to this point in his thoughts, Hellboy abruptly stopped walking.

"H.B. is something wrong?" As Hellboy heard Liz's startled voice, a sudden, blazing insight ripped into the very core of his being. Rather than undermining the rock of his devotion to his late father, Hellboy's love for Liz and her love for him had strengthened it even further; turning that devotion into a wall of protection around Hellboy that no power from Hell could penetrate, not unless his own actions or emotions helped to chip away at that wall.

_"Son,"_ Hellboy heard a well-loved voice from the past, _"jealousy is never a pretty emotion. The fact that you were harboring this emotion was something the entity possessing you was able to exploit, driving you into actions that you would never have performed when in your right mind." _

"No, Lizzie, there's nothing wrong," he said and again resumed his walk toward the medical wing.

Twenty minutes later, Hellboy and Liz found themselves back on the mattress in the back of his old red pickup truck. Hellboy had been relieved when they found that the wound on Liz's foot was less than it had initially appeared and she hadn't needed stitches. Her foot was now neatly bandaged and a topical cream had been applied to help healing and prevent scarring. The cream had stung a little, and Liz was now wide-awake waiting for a prescription painkiller to kick in.

As Hellboy lay next to Liz, he eased her into his arms and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry about what happened last night, Liz."

Liz relaxed her head onto Hellboy's chest. "I know you are, H.B.; but you're always sorry and then the same damn stuff just starts up again. You've always been a bit on the jealous side, but I wish I could understand why it's been so much worse lately."

Kissing the top of Liz's head, Hellboy sighed. "I think I'm starting to know why; and I can promise you it will stop. I can't promise that I won't ever feel jealous again, but like Pop told me, I can learn to be in command of my actions rather than acting in the heat of the moment."

Liz snuggled closer as Hellboy wrapped his left arm around her. "Oh, H.B., that sounds so much like the Professor," she said as he laid her head on his shoulder, "When did he give you that bit of advice?"

Yawning sleepily, Hellboy shook his head. "Funny thing; I don't really remember." He drifted off to sleep with his wife in his arms, happier than he had felt in a long time.

_"Human, you have once again managed to keep my son from me."_ In a strange sort of dream, Hellboy swore he heard a cold, dark, menacing voice.

_"As long as he retains the power to love_," came another voice, bringing light and warmth,_ "he will forever be my son, in whom I am well pleased; and you will never be able to touch him." _

_**More to come...**_

_**Author's afterword:** Sorry this has taken so long to post. I found it very difficult to write._

_**P.S.** Feedback would be nice..._


	54. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 15

**Author's note**: Professor Kate Corrigan first came into Mignola's Hellboy comics via The Wolves of Saint August, where she helps Hellboy in 1994 to investigate the death of long-time friend and colleague Father Edward Kelly. That has long been one of my favorites of the original comics and I have utilized both Kate and Father Ed as characters in several of my movieverse fics, even though they were not used in the movie.

This part of _Chapter Six: Liz Sherman_ returns to the year 1994. In my previous narrative of this year, Liz had run away from the Bureau and while Hellboy took off to look for her, Trevor Broom had an almost fatal heart attack that he later recovered from.

**Disclaimer:** Some of what I write below derives from The Wolves of Saint August, but how I fit that into what I am developing for the 'Liz Sherman' chapter to Hellboy's Family is original to me. Probably the one major difference between the original comics and the movie Hellboy is the date of the death of Trevor Bruttenholm—1994 in the comics and 2004 in the movie. In the comics, the 1994 death of Father Edward Kelly takes place after the death of Trevor Bruttenholm. Of course, in what I write below, a movieverse Trevor 'Broom' is still alive in 1994. The photograph mentioned below derives from a frontispiece illustration by Mike Mignola in The Wolves of Saint August that shows this photograph. It has commonly been considered by fans of the original comics to be a picture taken after Hellboy and Father Ed had worked together on an exorcism.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love**—_**Part Fifteen**_

_**10/30/1994  
Newark International Airport  
FBI-Controlled Private Hangar **_

Hellboy took Kate Corrigan into his arms and held her close for a very long time.

"Katie," he finally managed to say, "I can't thank you enough for coming with me to the Balkans."

She reached up and gently touched his cheek. "Remember, Hellboy, I knew Father Ed. We worked together on quite a few vampire cases and did research together in Eastern Europe. It was obvious how very close you two were. There was no way in Hell I could let you investigate his death alone."

Hellboy sighed and kissed her forehead. "Sweetie, you're the best friend any guy ever had."

Kate smiled up at him, "Any time you need me I'm still just a phone call away, Hellboy; any time. Make sure you understand that."

"Yeah, I do understand, Kate," he said with a little smile, "but it doesn't make it any easier to let you go back to Pittsburgh." He drew her close to his chest again, an urgent desire to make love to her almost overwhelming him. "I miss us being together, you know," he whispered hoarsely.

Gently pulling away, she stretched up and kissed his cheek. "It's still better that I go, Hellboy."

With that, Kate turned and climbed into the small FBI plane that was waiting to fly her back to her new job and new life in another city far from him.

"Just because it's better doesn't make it easy, Katie," he muttered, as he climbed into the truck that was to take him back to the secret underground Bureau headquarters in another area of Newark.

* * *

Hellboy was glad that, for once, the calls for service the night of Halloween were relatively simple. Usually, he loved going out on calls that night, getting conveniently 'lost', and letting himself be 'found' again by the other agents as he mingled himself in the crowds of oddly-dressed revelers in the Greenwich Village Halloween parade. That was a time and place where he felt he could truly fit in.

The Halloween of 1994 found him sitting alone at the old desk in his room; claiming to be working on his official report of the 'Griart/Saint August incident'—the incident in the East Balkans where a whole village of people and one visiting foreign priest were literally torn apart by a family of werewolves.

Hellboy could still hear his own angry words echoing in his head. _'That priest was a friend of mine!'_ He could still see the blood-covered ancient stones in the courtyard where the already dead body of Father Edward Kelly had been ripped to shreds by the head of a family cursed into turning into wolves.

The longer he tried to write his report, the more he could see and hear the tortured ghost of his friend begging for his help; could hear his own anguished cry of _'Ed, God Damn!'_ He could still feel the burning satisfaction that had filled him when he angrily impaled that monstrous wolf with the metal shaft from a cross in the courtyard where local officials had found Father Ed's body.

Hellboy knew that the beast had deserved to die; not only had it killed his close friend and colleague, it had driven its family to massacre an entire village. This beast had also savagely attacked Hellboy and threatened Kate Corrigan. The fact that this centuries-ago cursed family turned out to be, according to verifiable information discovered by Kate, as much victims as monsters didn't make the ache in his heart any less.

Yet, the final words, _'I'm tired,' _groaned by the wolf-beast as it died turned Hellboy's satisfaction at its death into something else and almost made him feel sorry for the creature. Almost, but not quite; after all it had killed Ed Kelly and that was something he could never completely forgive.

Pushing away his old, clunky typewriter in frustration, Hellboy looked at the time on an old clock radio that sat nearby. It was already after midnight; the date was now November 1st.

He now knew that this date was Trevor Broom's birthday and also knew that, for a variety of painful reasons from Trevor Broom's past, his father never wished to celebrate this day. Yet, Hellboy's own discomfort with the day derived from something deeper and more frightening; the most disconcerting thing being that he had no idea why he had always found this date so disturbing.

Finally standing up from his large, old wooden desk chair, Hellboy stretched out his tired back and cracked his neck. Sitting back down in the chair, he opened a drawer full of old papers and other odds-and-ends. Sifting through this with his left hand, at length he pulled out an old black-and-white photograph and sat staring at it for a long time. For several very practical reasons, Hellboy had few photographs of himself; and even fewer of himself with the people who meant most to him.

**Saybrook, Connecticut, 1961**—As he stared at the blue ink of the caption written on the bottom of the photograph, he could recall that August day as if it had been yesterday. Trevor Broom had snapped that picture of a 16-year-old Hellboy and a 37-year-old Father Ed arm-in-arm on a beach; they were both smoking cigars and looking as relaxed as if they were on vacation. In the background of the picture was the old lighthouse where the two had just performed a major exorcism.

It had also been Hellboy's first major Bureau operation after the move to Newark. On the strength of the success of Hellboy's partnership with Father Ed, Trevor Broom had insisted that the FBI allow him to make Hellboy a fully independent agent of the BPRD. That day had long been one of the happiest days in Hellboy's life; but now the glow of this first collaboration with Father Edward Kelly would be forever tainted by the memory of his gruesome death.

Even as late as it was, he knew that if he went to his father's office he would find him working there. Trevor Broom seldom found it easy to sleep when his birthday rolled around. Even though this was almost never a topic of discussion between them, Hellboy knew his father suffered from nightmares; this was especially true as November 1st drew closer.

Hellboy's own propensity toward nightmares was just one of the many characteristics he seemed to have inherited from the man who raised him. He had already had several disturbing dreams the evening before relating to the horrific death of Ed Kelly and had hoped that working on his report would purge some of these unsettling images. It just seemed to make everything worse.

Standing up again from his desk, Hellboy shoved the old photograph in the breast pocket of the black tee shirt he was wearing and went to his father's office to see if he was still there. When he arrived, he found that not only was Trevor Broom present, but also a large group of nervous agents.

Hellboy's already overtaxed emotions barely allowed him to hear what Trevor Broom was telling him—After all these months of avoiding anyone discovering her location, Liz Sherman had finally returned…

_More to come..._

**Author's afterword:** I know this update is short, but found this a good place to break off. Thanks to all who have been following this.


	55. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 16

**Author's note**: This follows right after _Part Fifteen_; make sure to read that if you haven't had a chance yet.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love**—_**Part Sixteen**_

Ignoring the group of agents milling around in the office, Hellboy pushed his way closer to where Trevor Broom was seated at his oaken desk, a stack of official looking papers placed in front of him.

"Liz is back? She's really back?" Hellboy still couldn't quite take in what Trevor Broom had been discussing with these agents as he first walked in.

"Yes, Son, Liz has returned to us." Broom lifted and scanned the first of the pages in front of him.

He looked up, startled, as Hellboy's left hand slammed down on top of his desk. "What in the Hell does she think we are, Pop? Some hotel where she can just come and go as she damn well pleases?"

"Kindly refrain from this unnecessarily emphatic language," Trevor Broom said in a deceptively quiet voice as he placed the paper he had been perusing back on top of the stack. "Her return to the Bureau was not some casual decision made on a whim. There's more to this than you are aware."

It was clear that Trevor Broom was planning to continue, but was cut off as Hellboy's gigantic right hand closed into a stone fist and came down with a crash; making the various writing implements and other items on the desk jump and rattle. That fist dug even further into the wood, as Hellboy leaned across the desk. "Aw, c'mon, Pop, it's like she thinks she can just waltz back in here whenever…"

A few nearby agents backed away, as Trevor Broom arose from his seat in that icily calm manner that told those who knew him that he was furiously angry. "Hellboy, please desist from gouging the top of my desk or shouting in my face. Sit down before you say or do anything that you may later regret."

With a grunt, Hellboy backed off and sullenly collapsed into the closest chair that could support him.

"Gentlemen," Broom turned toward the obviously ill at ease agents, "if there is nothing more to report at this time, please retire to your quarters, and we will discuss these matters further in the morning."

The group of agents departed. Trevor Broom once again picked up the top page from the stack in front of him and continued his reading of it. As the silence between them stretched to the point of making Hellboy self-conscious, the anger he felt toward Liz began to fade; and he found himself considering the perplexing tangle of emotions that had brought on that outburst at Trevor Broom.

Recalling all of the disturbing events of 1994, with its losses and almost losses, Hellboy realized that he was furious with Liz for coming back mainly because she _could _come back. Ed Kelly, who only intended a temporary leave from their Boston adjunct headquarters after almost losing an eye in the last exorcism he performed with Hellboy, had that very ability to come back ripped violently from him.

Somewhere deep down, Hellboy knew that the anger he felt was as much with his own self as with Liz. It was his inability to deal with her departure earlier in the year that had driven Kate Corrigan away and then caused the events that brought Trevor Broom to the point of an almost fatal heart attack. The more recent loss of Ed Kelly just brought all that anger at himself and Liz closer to the surface.

And here he was, thoughtlessly taking this anger out on Trevor Broom. Especially at a time when he knew his father had his own disturbing memories of past losses to deal with, along with the particulars of Liz's unexpected return. He got up from his chair and moved back toward Broom's desk.

"Father, I…" he started, when Trevor Broom interrupted him with a wry, but still affectionate smile.

"No need to apologize, Son. I too was at fault. I'm afraid that neither of us is at our best right now."

Hellboy nodded. "But I'm still ticked off with Liz," he said after a slight pause, "Can't she understand how worried I… how worried we… I… Aw, crap," he finally sighed and rubbed at the top of his head with his left hand. "She's okay, isn't she?" In spite of his anger, a deep concern for Liz filled his eyes.

"I had hoped to learn more before I shared this with you," Trevor Broom began, but raised his hand when Hellboy appeared about to say something to that statement. "I also understand that you have a significant need to know all that relates to Liz. Sit back down and I will tell you as much as I know; but first I need to finish scanning these documents as they are related to the matter at hand."

Hellboy returned to the chair he had just been sitting in and waited; if not exactly patiently, at least he suffered silently enough not to interrupt Broom's study of the documents. After a good quarter of an hour, during which time Hellboy stared at the fire and tried not to fidget too much, Trevor Broom stood up with a deep sigh and stretched.

Shifting another chair closer to Hellboy, he sat down and silently contemplated his overgrown, but still too often adolescent son. "One of the reasons," he finally began, "that we could never locate Liz was that she had managed to dye her hair and establish a false identity that, until just now, had not come either to the FBI's or to our attention. The records I now have before me show that Liz managed for a time to live on her own with little trouble, but at one point her control slipped and she ended up living on the streets in Greenwich Village near Waverly Place. It wasn't long after this that she came to the attention of Charles Heyling, the psychiatrist who directs the Bellamie Mental Hospital in Manhattan."

Broom shifted in his chair and leaned closer toward Hellboy. "As you are well aware, Son, many of those who exhibit weird 'talents' end up classified as mentally unstable. They are often confined in hospitals such as the Bellamie; which frequently have no idea how to deal with such baffling cases. Charles has been a confidential consultant with the Bureau ever since our arrival in Newark. He has established a special ward for just such 'untreatable' cases and has managed to help a lot of troubled men and women develop the control they need to reinstate some normality in their lives."

"I'm assuming from what you're telling me," Hellboy interrupted, "that this Charles guy found out who Liz really was. So, why didn't he tell us he had her in his hospital?"

"One of the reasons Charles has been so successful," Broom replied, "is that patient confidentiality is paramount with him. I highly respect his position on this; complete confidentiality is, in many cases, the only way he can get these poor souls to trust him enough to allow him to work with them."

"Well, then why is Liz back here? Because the stuff this guy did with her worked or because it didn't?" Hellboy suspected that Trevor Broom was hesitating to get to the real point of the matter.

Broom sighed, "You know that Liz often loses control when she becomes panicked or intensely angry. I assume we both recall what occurred in that Louisiana swamp this past January."

Hellboy grunted, "I never could get her to see that it was as much my fault as hers. I was the one who got too cocky and let the situation get out of control. I think I would've panicked, too, if I'd seen my two partners grabbed by a swamp demon and sucked into the bayou."

Broom nodded, "I also tried to reassure her that what had happened was merely a small setback in her struggle to bring her abilities under stricter control. Yet, I was not surprised when she left us again not long after that incident. I just wish she hadn't felt compelled to disappear completely."

"Look, Pop, I know all this," Hellboy jumped in. He then leant forward and placed his left hand on Trevor Broom's knee, "Father, I can tell you're hiding something from me. Stop rambling and just tell me what's up with her now."

_More to come…_


	56. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 17

**Author's notes: **This follows right after _Part Sixteen _and is taking place in 1994 in the wee hours of November 1st, the morning after Halloween. I must apologize for the delay in submitting this. I've been in a terrible writer's block on this chapter. The first part of this chapter was written a long time ago and just sat unfinished. Then some new fan fiction writing friends started challenging each other to just sit down and write for an hour. I joined in and even though I'm still not the fastest writer in the world I managed to get this update finished. Many thanks to those who are still following this story.

A reminder about Chapter Six—The time periods covered in this are not necessarily linear. In _Part One_ and _Part Two_ it was established that these narratives are Hellboy remembering how he first met and fell in love with Liz from the vantage point of a century after her death. These memories are more ordered in terms of emotional content, not chronology; with the easier memories being recalled earlier than the more problematic ones. Dealing with any revelations from "Hellboy 2: The Golden Army", this story was established long before that film was even a twinkle in Guillermo del Toro's eye. Nothing that I've already written in Hellboy's Family is that far off from the new film, but I'm not going out of my way to change things in this story to fit the new movie.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love**—**_Part Seventeen_**

Hellboy sat in a chair in one of the private rooms in the Bureau's Medical Wing. This chair was a bit too small for his size; but the discomfort of this was his least concern. All of his attention was focused on the young woman lying unconscious on the bed in the room.

He shifted his bulk in the uncomfortable chair and pondered the information that Trevor Broom had just given him. Liz, under Doctor Charles Heyling's care at the Bellamie Hospital, had improved considerably in her control of her powers. She and a few other women from the hospital had been granted the privilege of attending the Halloween parade in Greenwich Village.

Hellboy again shifted in the chair, not wanting to think any further on what had brought Liz so unexpectedly back to the Bureau. Against his will, his eyes drifted closed. Exhaustion was finally catching up with him. Dealing with the emotions of investigating the death of Ed Kelly in the Balkans, having once again to say farewell to Kate Corrigan, and now this new crisis with Liz, had definitely made it difficult to get any sleep.

He had no idea how long he had been asleep when he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Trevor Broom standing next to him, appearing almost as tired as he felt himself.

"Son, you have barely slept and have eaten nothing in more than twenty-four hours. It doesn't appear that Liz will be waking anytime soon. There is no reason…"

As somber as his thoughts had been before he fell asleep, Hellboy found it hard not to smile.

"Kinda the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it, Pop? You don't look that fresh yourself."

Trevor Broom smiled back and squeezed Hellboy's shoulder again, "Maybe not, Son; but I'm not as young as I once was. If I hadn't had a little sleep and food recently, I would probably keel over. Frankly, you look as exhausted as I've ever seen you looking. Get something to eat and go to bed."

Hellboy recognized the tone in Trevor Broom's voice; he wasn't merely being addressed as his 'son', but as one of his most important operatives. Being as well rested as possible was certainly a prerequisite for the work he did for the Bureau.

Nodding, Hellboy stood up. "Did they ever catch the guys that, you know…" he trailed off, still unable to wrap his mind around the idea of men trying to force themselves onto unwilling young women.

The slight smile Trevor Broom had on his face faded, making him look even more tired than before.

"That was the news that interrupted my sleep. Three drunken men turned up in the Beth Israel Hospital emergency room with their hands covered by third-degree burns. The attending physician's suspicions were aroused that none of these men had a coherent account of the causes of the burns. To make a long story short, all three men are now in custody. The women from Bellamie Hospital that Liz had protected from their unwelcome advances made a positive identification of them."

Hellboy clenched his huge stone fist, a look of anger replacing his earlier worry. "It's a good thing I wasn't around when those guys tried that, Pop. They'd have a lot more than singed fingers."

Shaking his head, Trevor Broom once again relaxed into an affectionate grin. "I can just imagine what would have happened if you were there, Son. I must say that I am impressed with the amount of control Charles Heyling has been able to teach Liz. She emitted no further fire than was needed to force those men away. I am more concerned with what happened after."

He moved closer to Liz's bed and checked the monitors. "Once Liz realized that her friends were safe, she went completely catatonic and no one has been able to wake her. As far as Charles or I can tell, there's no physical reason for her to be unconscious. Charles believes that she still blames herself for any manifestation of her powers, regardless of necessity. He felt that it was best she return here, where we have better fireproofed facilities, until we can fully ascertain what her reaction to this episode will be. We are concerned that self blame could undermine what work he has done with her."

Trevor Broom gently pushed back some hair from Liz's forehead. She was now wearing it cut into a short bob rather than the longer style she had when she first arrived to the Bureau two years before. He looked up at Hellboy again, "Son, I'm afraid that Liz will never truly gain the control she wishes to have until she embraces and works with her talent rather than trying to completely suppress it."

Grasping a tighter hold of his cane, he turned away from Liz and limped toward the door.

"Come, Son, we both should try to get some more rest. Make sure you eat something."

Looking back longingly at the unconscious figure in the bed, Hellboy heaved a sigh and then obediently followed his adoptive father out of the room.

* * *

Hellboy woke in the early afternoon of November 1st from what seemed a dreamless slumber. It had been a long time since he had any nightmares related to this date. He was never completely clear what these nightmares pertained to, but had been glad when they stopped toward the end of 1978. Still, something about this date bothered him and, once he awoke, there was no getting back to sleep.

The calendar date, combined with his anxiety over Liz, made him more restless than usual and he decided to go foraging to the main Bureau kitchen for lunch rather than having it sent to his room. Once he arrived to the kitchen, though, his appetite again dwindled to nothing. The only reason why he had even forced himself to eat a little for breakfast was on Trevor Broom's insistence that he eat.

Wandering back to the Medical Wing, almost on an automatic pilot, Hellboy once again found himself in Liz's room where she still lay unconscious. Trevor Broom was there, speaking with Dr. Frank Cobb, now the chief surgeon of the facility. They both looked up as Hellboy walked in.

"I wondered how long it would be before you turned up again, Son," Broom said with a little smile, "Frank believes that indications show that Liz should be coming out of this some time soon."

Hellboy nodded. "Is it okay if I sit here again?"

Trevor Broom looked over to Dr. Cobb, who nodded and said, "Red, as long as I'm in charge around here you're always welcome. Just don't bother the nurses too much and stop raiding the Medical Wing staff kitchen," he added as he went past Hellboy into the corridor, "My people have been complaining that their lunches are going missing."

Hellboy laughed, and then turned toward Trevor Broom, who was still in the room. "Not that I've had too much appetite recently, anyway. Well, Pop, at least you look better rested."

"As do you, Son," Broom said with a smile. "Just don't stay too long. I suspect that you haven't eaten lunch and would rather you not skip supper as well."

After his father left, Hellboy sat down on the same too-small chair he had been sitting on before and watched Liz sleep. He tried to remind himself that Dr. Cobb had said that she once again was sleeping naturally instead of being in a coma, but that just made him more restless.

The chair that had been merely uncomfortable before seemed torturous now. He finally got up, moved closer to Liz's bed, and sat on the floor right next to it; just as he had done when he was fourteen years old and thought Trevor Broom was going to die from cancer.

Yet, what he was going through now was nothing like the agony he had felt then. Liz wasn't dying. That wasn't what the problem was. He was falling in love with her.

"No," he muttered to himself as he gently took hold of a too cold hand with his normal-sized left hand, "I'm already in love with her." Martha Wilson had known it. Kate had known it. That was one of several reasons why Kate had taken that job in Pittsburgh.

What he was unsure about was what Liz felt and he was uncomfortable with broaching the topic. Sixteen years before, when he thought he was falling in love with his long-time friend Kate Corrigan, the whole thing had seemed so different. Kate had been an adult, sexually active woman. They just seemed to slide into a new stage in their relationship.

What he felt for Liz just wasn't the same as he had felt for Kate. He now understood that Kate was right when she told him that he had never truly been in love with her. There was something more in what he felt for Liz; but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He just knew that he was in love.

Part of him still couldn't help feeling like he was robbing the cradle. Liz wasn't yet nineteen years old. The other part of him knew that he was falling head over heels for a young woman who, when he first met her when she had been eleven years old, had seemed almost like a little sister. If he looked at it that way, what he felt for Liz wasn't really all that different from what he had felt for Kate.

Yet, as he gently raised the still cold hand to his lips, he knew that, unlike Kate, there would never be another who would take Liz's place. She was his soul mate in a way that no one else would ever be.

As he lowered her hand again, he felt it move in his and his heart almost stopped beating.

Liz's eyes opened. As she came to realize where she was and who was holding her hand, she pulled it away and turned her back on him, facing the wall.

"Lizzie," he whispered, rising up on his knees and leaning forward, "C'mon, kid, look at me."

She shrugged and turned back. "So, how many did I kill this time, huh?"

"No one, kiddo. They just got burnt fingers. You did good. Pop thinks so. Dr. Heyling thinks so. Your friends certainly think so."

Liz weakly tried to sit up. Hellboy nervously fiddled with some controls to raise the head of her bed, but when he tried to help her sit up, Liz pushed him away.

"I still lost control, H.B. What good is all of my supposed training here and the hospitalizations in that stupid Bellamie Hospital, if the first time I get to go out, I hurt people again."

Hellboy stood up from the floor and paced around the small room, lashing his tail in his agitation. "Those guys weren't people, Liz. Those bastards tried to rape you and your friends." He moved back toward her bed. "You scared those guys off. It was the right thing to do and you didn't go too far. What more do you want? You have the right to defend yourself."

Liz, already appearing stronger, sat up further. "Stop it, H.B. I don't want to defend myself, at least not that way. I want to be a girl who uses what other girls use to keep the creeps off her. Being able to set them on fire with what your father insists on calling my 'talent' isn't it."

She turned away with a sob, drawing the sheets closer. "It's not a 'talent'. It's what killed my parents and thirty-something other people eight years ago. I just want it to go away."

Hellboy drew the chair closer and sat down with a sigh. "It won't go away, Liz. You'll just have to learn to live with it."

She angrily turned in the bed to face him again, "I don't want to learn to live with it, H.B."

She then collapsed back onto her pillows with a sigh. "I know you're right, though. It won't go away. But that doesn't mean I have to use it. I went to Dr. Heyling to learn to control this 'talent' of mine. I'll just have to go back and work harder."

Shaking his head, Hellboy managed to keep from saying anything further; knowing that it would take a lot more than mere words to help Liz. "Well, I guess I'd better go tell Pop you're awake again."

"I don't want to see him," Liz shouted as he started into the corridor. "I just want to get out of here."

Hellboy moved back toward the bed. "You're gonna hafta to see him, Lizzie. Better now than later."

Liz looked up as the seven-foot, scarlet-skinned giant came and stood next to her bed. He could see in her face that she was just starting to understand something.

"They're not letting me go back to the hospital, are they? They're going to make me stay here."

He shrugged. "You'll have to talk with Pop, Liz."

She sat up further in the bed, her hands clenched in the thin sheet covering her. "He can't hold me here against my will."

"Liz, you know he'd never do that. He'll just want to talk to you, see if he can help."

Liz collapsed back on to her pillow. "No one can help me. Why can't he see that?"

Hellboy sat back down on the floor next to her bed and took her hand again. "You don't stay long enough to let him help, Lizzie. You can't keep running away, you know."

She closed her eyes in defeat. "Yeah, I know. That's why I finally checked into that hospital. I really thought it was working until those guys turned up last night."

Hellboy squeezed her hand. "Liz, it won't work until you accept that you will always be unique."

She yanked her hand away abruptly. "I don't want to be unique."

Hellboy couldn't help smiling. "You know, I said that same thing when I was five years old. There are times you have to let go of what you want, especially if you can't change what you are."

Sitting up in the bed again, Liz stared at Hellboy for a long moment. In a way, it was like she was seeing him for the first time. "It's different with me," she finally said, "You can't hide what you are, but I can. Once I get this thing under control no one will ever know that I'm not just like them."

Hellboy blinked at this, hurt that rather than trying to understand him, Liz latched on to the fact that she was human and he wasn't. Clearing his throat, he started to say something; then looking away, he stayed silent.

The silence seemed to stretch into an eternity before he felt a small hand touch his cheek.

"I'm sorry, H.B.," he heard Liz say as he continued to look at the floor, "That didn't come out right."

"That's okay, kid. I know you're right," he sighed, taking her hand again, but not quite looking at her. "I can't hide what I am. But you can't either and you're gonna find that out the hard way."

After sitting on the floor and holding her hand for another moment of silence, Hellboy looked up into Liz's now tear-filled dark eyes. "You know that my father won't make you stay, but I wish you would. I worry like hell when I don't know where you are or how you're doing, Lizzie."

"All I want is a normal life, Hellboy," Liz said, using the name that she usually avoided speaking, "Normal isn't something I'm going to get around here."

"How normal was it in that mental hospital, Liz?" A smoldering anger began to well up as he recalled how Trevor Broom was almost killed while Hellboy ran around trying to find Liz. "I'll tell you what, kiddo, normal ain't something you're gonna get out there. This is the only place you'll ever really fit in and you'd better learn to live with it."

Standing up from the floor, Hellboy stalked out without a second glance at the troubled young woman.

_More to come..._


	57. 6 Liz Sherman: Fear of Fire: Part 18

**Author's note: **This follows after _Part Seventeen _and is taking place in the wee hours of 12/18/1994.

**Chapter Six: Liz Sherman **

**Fear of Fire: A Tale of Trust and Love**—**_Part Eighteen_**

Often, when Hellboy wasn't being grounded or wishing just to be left alone, the large metal door to his room stood slightly ajar. Anyone, including Trevor Broom at times, who felt the need for an evening break with a good movie, could stop by. There was one light rap at the door that, when it came, would always send Hellboy's heart into his throat. This evening it came just after midnight.

"Hi, H.B." That's what Liz always said when she turned up. Even he could hear that she didn't sound quite right this time. Her short, dark hair was mussed and she was clad in the sleeveless black tee shirt and dark shorts she usually slept in. The lateness of the hour, coupled with the quaver in her voice and state of dress, told him that she had been wakened by a nightmare; the kind that was always filled with wells of fire and screaming people.

"Hiya, Lizzie. Channel Nine just started broadcasting Casablanca. Great movie. Why don't you stay and watch it with me?"

As he slid over on the old leather car seat he used as a couch, Liz nodded, shrugged, and sat down next to him. Tucking her bare feet up underneath her, she tightly clasped her hands in her lap, almost as if praying. Hellboy knew this was not a good sign that she had any peaceful sleep earlier.

Still, Liz didn't say anything of what was bothering her; just pretended to concentrate on the screen in front of them. Hellboy's many other televisions were still flickering in the darkness of the rest of that cavernous cement-floored room; but he had lowered all sound except the one he was watching.

"So, kid, have you ever seen this flick? They don't make 'em like this any more, you know."

Liz cleared her throat, and then spoke almost with a sigh. "No, when I was hanging out on the streets of Portland, the Laurelhurst's cheap screen was on a silent movie kick. That's why I know so many Charlie Chaplin films."

"Did you …" Whatever else Hellboy was going to ask was cut off.

"Let's keep watching, H.B. If it's as good as you say it is, why should you keep me from seeing it?"

Leaning back, he suppressed any further desire for conversation. He always thought it was funny that he usually cared less about carrying on mindless chatter with most people; but he would do almost anything to keep Liz talking when she was around. He just wanted to hear her voice.

As they continued watching, Hellboy would occasionally glance over at Liz. She was being very careful not to sit too close to him; always a sign that something was really bothering her. Yet, little by little, he noticed that she became ever more engrossed in that classic tale of the struggle between true love and duty. It was one of his favorite things in the world when he could introduce Liz to something she really enjoyed. She had missed out on so much in her short, but chaotic life.

During each commercial break in the film, he noted that Liz slid over closer to him; so that by the time it was reaching the final scenes, she was practically leaning into his left side. He lightly brought his left arm and normal-sized hand around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

Hellboy felt Liz's head relax onto his chest, just as the film was winding down to those timeless lines, '_Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'_

She was silent for so long that, at first, he thought she had fallen asleep.

Closing his eyes, Hellboy let himself drift without falling completely asleep. He knew that he had to be alert to any potential pyrokinetic manifestations. Anything from small blazes to huge conflagrations could result from Liz's nightmares when she lost control.

Even if he himself was invulnerable, he had no wish for all of his belongings to go up in a puff of smoke. He also had his pet cats to think of as well. Most of these were curled up on the mattress in the back of his pickup truck or lying on top of warm television sets and other comfortable surfaces.

He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of Liz's voice.

"I can still hear them screaming, all those people I killed." She buried her face closer into his chest. "The more I try to block them out, the louder they scream."

Hellboy gently stroked her hair. "That screaming you hear? It's not real. Remember that."

"What do you mean, it's not real," Liz snapped, raising her head to look him in the eye, "I've killed a lot of people because of who I am, what happens when I lose it. Just because I don't actually remember except in my dreams, doesn't make it unreal, H.B."

Hellboy couldn't help thinking of the one man he could turn to for advice in the few times he had anxieties he was reluctant to share with Trevor Broom. A twinge of grief came as he recalled counsel that had once been given to him by the priest whose picture was still in the breast pocket of the shirt he had on. Hellboy felt his jaw clench. Too bad Father Ed had been massacred in the Balkans.

Forcing himself to relax, he spoke similar words to Liz as Father Ed had once offered him.

"Sure those deaths were real, Lizzie. But those screams you hear, even if they're the ghost of what once was or a premonition of doom to come, they're still just a product of your subconscious."

If the moment hadn't been so serious, Hellboy could have laughed at the look on Liz's face.

"Big words coming from you, H.B. When did you get so wise?"

Hellboy drew away and took Liz's chin in his hand to make her look him in the face.

"Its borrowed wisdom, kiddo. I've had my share of nightmares. Used to worry about the stuff that was in them. Worried even more about the ones I couldn't remember. For some reason, I couldn't talk to Pop about them. I finally went to this priest who was a friend of mine. What I just said to you was pretty much what he said to me."

Pulling away from his hand, Liz turned away and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I still killed all those people," she muttered. Tears started to fall for the first time since she arrived.

"It's going to be my birthday tomorrow, H.B.," she sobbed, "I hate my birthday. My whole life was ruined because of what I did on the day after my birthday. But I deserve to have my life ruined. Because of me people are dead, my parents are dead."

Hellboy moved closer on the couch, so that Liz had to hear what he said, even if she pretended she was no longer listening.

"Yes, Liz, you did kill them. All those people are dead because of you." His bluntly stated concurrence with what he knew her guilt was constantly telling her served its purpose. Liz looked up at him again.

"It still wasn't your fault. You had no control over it. Now, you're doing the only thing you can do to make up for what happened. You're learning to control it so it won't happen again."

As he watched her brush tears away with both hands, she gave him a little smile. "Your father and Doctor Heyling say the same thing."

"Of course, they do," Hellboy chuckled, "Where do you think I got it from."

Liz took a deep breath to rein in her still turbulent emotions. "They talk to you about me?"

"Father does sometimes," Hellboy said as he got up to fetch Liz a clean handkerchief from a drawer in the bureau near his wash facilities.

"It's not much that I don't know already," he went on, as he brought her the handkerchief. "You can be sure Father and Doctor Heyling aren't saying things you don't want people to hear."

As Hellboy again sat on his couch and handed Liz the handkerchief, he could see that Liz was more relaxed than she had been.

"The Professor wants to have a little birthday party for me tomorrow," Liz said after she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I think that's nice after all the trouble I've caused. I want to try to enjoy it, but it's hard to keep the dreams away."

"Don't try," Hellboy said with a wry grin, "It doesn't work that good, as I've found out."

Liz shoved the now damp handkerchief into a pocket of her shorts and laid her head on his left shoulder again. "But I want the dreams to stop."

"They will," Hellboy said as he softly used one of the huge stone fingers of his right hand to wipe away another tear that tracked down her cheek. "Most of mine did after a while."

Liz shrugged and murmured sleepily, "That still sounds like a long time."

As he started to say something further, he noticed that she had fallen asleep.

He had two options, to take her out to her own fireproofed quarters or to take her, if he thought her control might be shaken by these nightmares, to the recently-installed containment facility in the restricted section of the Medical Wing. He hated that place, so metallic and barren looking, but he had to admit that it was the only completely fireproof area in the entire Bureau Newark headquarters.

Hellboy looked down at Liz as she slept on his shoulder. She looked so at peace right where she was, that he hated to disturb her. He eased her head from his shoulder to a more comfortable position pillowed on his tee shirt clad chest and settled into keeping watch while she slept.

_More to come…_

**_Author's afterward:_** I know that movieverse Liz was born in 1975 (as opposed to 1963 for the character in the original comics). I have no idea which day or month in 1975 and have decided on 12/19/1975.


End file.
